


Razing Doubt

by mmarydee



Series: Sowing Uncertainty [2]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Awkward Romance, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmarydee/pseuds/mmarydee
Summary: Relationships are never simple, even when you approach them with an open mind and a willingness to communicate. Peach and Harvey begin to wonder about the future while trying to make peace with the past. Falling in love is easy. Holding onto it is hard.
Relationships: Harvey/Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Sowing Uncertainty [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855357
Comments: 24
Kudos: 25





	1. what happens now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up immediately after the epilogue for Sowing Uncertainty. You don't have to read it, but it'll make more sense if you do (and it would also make me happy 😌)
> 
> _Edited 12.28.20. A few minor changes, (hopefully) improved dialogue._ 😙

There was a touch of light in the sky, the house was quiet and empty, but I had grown used to it. I rubbed the exhaustion out of my eyes, thanking myself for not drinking too much last night. I was sure I couldn’t handle a hangover on top of only four hours of sleep. Though the previous night’s party had been an unexpected turn of events, I couldn’t complain. The weirdness, the people, the mess had all been worth it because Harvey had been there. I smiled, starting a pot of coffee before I checked over my to-do list and Shane’s schedule for the coming week. He’d be working at JojaMart Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We’d need to spend some time today planning for the approaching fall. I poured a cup of coffee and let it cool on the table as I wandered to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I found someone asleep in my bathtub. I must have screamed when I saw him because he jerked awake.

“What the _fuck_? Alex, have you been here all night?” I hovered in the doorway, not sure what to do.

“I don’t know.” Alex blinked twice and sat up, looking around. “Where’s here?” He tried to stand, reeling for a moment before he sat back down in the tub. “I think I’m still drunk,” he mumbled. He tilted forward and threw up last night’s beer in his lap.

“Why is this my life?” I asked no one, eyes on the ceiling, wishing I hadn’t seen that happen.

“That’s better,” Alex said with a gurgling laugh.

With a groan, I closed the curtain around him and his mess and turned on the shower.

“Clean yourself up, party boy,” I grumbled. “I’ll make you some toast.”

Fucking Alex. I had been positive he left along with Haley and the others. He’d been the heart of the party all evening, and I couldn’t believe no one noticed he hadn’t gone home.

Last night I might have thanked him for inviting everyone to the farm. Now I wanted to hit him. It was too early in the morning for nonsense.

Shane arrived about a half-hour later, bringing in the eggs he’d collected from the coop on his way. He stopped short in the doorway. He glared at Alex, who wore only his boxers and one of my dad’s old flannels. He was asleep again, his head on the table next to a plate of toast.

“Uh, Peach?”

“This is _not_ what you’re thinking.” I sipped a second cup of coffee across from the sleeping troublemaker.

“I’m not thinking anything.” Shane let the screen slap shut behind him.

“He passed out in my bathtub last night. I didn’t know he was there until he scared the shit out of me this morning.”

“And his clothes?” Shane didn’t bother to disguise his amusement.

“He puked on them.” I shrugged and pointed to where Alex’s t-shirt and jeans were drying by the fireplace.

Shane shook his head and poured himself a coffee.

We sat on the porch and laid out our plans for the week before starting the day’s work. Aside from watering the crops, a few fences needed repairs. I had tons of hot peppers to harvest and preserve. I spent most of the morning in the kitchen, filling jars and keeping an eye on my guest.

Alex revived around lunchtime. After a plate of scrambled eggs, he was himself again. He cackled over his antics even as I made him clean my bathtub before sending him home. I hoped he’d forgotten about finding Harvey and me in my room the night before. I smiled at the memory of one tiny kiss that made my heart want to burst. There was a little flutter in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

“You look happy,” Shane said, pulling the screen door open.

“Alex finally went home,” I said. “Want a sandwich?”

“Sure.” He washed his hands at the sink while I put the pan back on the stove to reheat. I glanced at the clock.

“Do you wanna take off early today?”

“And do what?” Shane scowled.

“Doesn’t Penny usually bring Jas home soon?” I tried to sound casual as I cracked two eggs into the pan. 

“It’s Sunday.”

“Oh. Right.” The useless excuse had been feeble at best. It was all I could come up with.

“Why are you making that face?” Shane narrowed his eyes.

“I’m not making a face.” The eggs bubbled and popped in the pan as they cooked. 

“You’re making a face and asking me about Penny.”

“Oh, come on, Shane. I only asked if you wanted to head home early today.”

“And what does that have to do with Penny?”

“Well, nothing _now_. It’s Sunday.”

“What would it have to do with Penny if it weren’t Sunday?”

“Well.” I wished I had said anything else. I sprinkled some salt and pepper on the eggs before flipping them. “The two of you looked a bit, um, friendly toward the end of last night.”

“We have a thing or two in common,” Shane said.

“That’s cool.” I moved one of the fried eggs from the pan to a piece of toast, added a slice of cheese, and threw another piece of toast on top. “Think you might talk again sometime?”

“Stop trying to make me make more friends.” Shane reached for his plate.

“I was just wondering,” I laughed as I joined him at the table. “You didn’t answer me, though. Do you want to head home a little early?”

“Why are you trying to get rid of me?” Shane narrowed his eyes as I struggled to keep my face neutral.

“I’m not. There’s nothing that needs doing that can’t wait till Tuesday.”

“I have a few more fences to fix,” he said. He took a drink of water, peering at me over the edge of his glass. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m _not_. Stay all day, see if I care.” I took a bite of my sandwich. 

“Is Harvey coming over?” I almost choked, and Shane burst into gruff laughter. I swallowed my bite with a big gulp of water.

“Sometime this afternoon,” I admitted. “I guess after he closes up the clinic?” Shane rolled his eyes and finished his lunch. 

“Go clean yourself up,” he said as he stood and set his plate in the sink. “I’ll finish the fences and then head out.”

“Thank you.” I smiled and gave him a playful push out the door. He picked up his tools and waved as he turned away.

I appreciated that Shane hadn’t made a big deal about my reluctance to talk about certain things. I had been trying to open up a bit more, but I often found myself slipping into old habits. He understood that I preferred to keep to myself. I hadn’t had much privacy in the past few months. You can’t break off an engagement in a small town without it becoming common knowledge. It wasn’t _that_ long ago. I still cringed whenever I thought about Elliott and that whole mess.

I cleaned the tub again, just in case, before taking a quick shower. With my teeth clean and hair brushed, I dressed in shorts, a soft t-shirt, and my favorite cardigan. I applied some lip balm, letting my thoughts wander again to the night before. Seeing Harvey again so soon seemed almost too good to be true. I tried not to think about last year, the months we’d spent avoiding each other. I swallowed the thought that he might change his mind along with my medication.

I tidied some of the clutter in the kitchen and wiped down the table before starting a fresh pot of coffee. I wondered if I should have baked something. Not that I knew how to bake anything. Why had I asked Harvey back so soon? I should have put more thought into this. But it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t come.

“Shut up, brain,” I mumbled, rinsing and wringing out a rag before hanging it to dry on the edge of the sink. I jumped at a knock at the door. I turned to see Harvey through the screen, a tall shadow in the afternoon light. I shook my hands dry and pushed open the door.

“You’re here,” I said, smiling up at him.

“Am I too early?” he asked. His mouth was a timid curve. He stepped into the open doorway.

“No, come in.” I crossed the room and pulled two clean mugs out of the cabinet. I set them on the table before bringing over the pot. “You don’t take cream or sugar, right?”

“No, I don’t.” Harvey stood barely a foot inside the door.

“That’s a relief because I don’t have any,” I laughed. “Did you want to sit down?”

He walked to the table and sat. I placed a steaming cup in front of him before pouring my own. He was so quiet. We had talked so much last night; was it possible we’d already talked about everything? Had we managed to run out of topics in a matter of hours? I couldn’t think of anything to say.

I sat across from him. He picked up his mug, inhaling the coffee’s sweet, toasty aroma before taking a drink. He closed his eyes for a moment, and a soft smile spread across his face. His shoulders relaxed. He set the cup down.

“Did you get enough rest last night?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” I said. “How about you?”

“I could have done with more.” He took another sip from his mug. “But this helps.”

He leaned against the back of his chair. His wrists rested on the edge of the table. I couldn’t shake how strange it felt to have him here. I begged my brain to produce an intelligible sentence.

“How was your day?” I finally asked.

“Rather dull, to be truthful. But I should enjoy the quiet while it lasts. It’s almost flu season.”

“Oh, right. That’s gotta be pretty stressful, huh?”

“There’s always a lot of paperwork and prescriptions. I make sure our very young and elderly neighbors get their flu shots. But it’s frustrating, the number of people in this town who have no concern at all for their health.”

We hadn’t talked much about his work before. It felt wrong to ask about it after he’d told me he’d never wanted to be a doctor. Whether he loved or hated the work, it was clear how much he cared for his patients.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to dump that on you,” Harvey said.

“It’s okay. You can say whatever you want.” I rested my elbows on the table, my eyes on the rippling liquid in my cup. Why was I so nervous?

“So the farm looks even better in daylight.” Harvey cleared his throat. “You’ve done even more than I could see last night.” 

“It’s getting to a point where I don’t think I could manage it all on my own if I tried. Shane’s been a huge help around here.”

“He seems like a different person these days.”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “He’s still doing pretty well, I think.”

“Hard work pays off,” Harvey said with a small smile. He finished the rest of his coffee, and I stood to refill it. “I meant to tell you,” he said, peeking up at me. “I’ve been talking to someone. A therapist. Trying to work through a few things.”

“Harvey.” I beamed. “I’m so happy for you. How has it been going?”

“Well. I’m a little less easily rattled these days. And I’m trying to get out more. Be a bit more social.” He smiled.

“You don’t say,” I said. Harvey chuckled and reached for my hand. He brushed the backs of my fingers with his thumb. 

“Peach,” he said. “Should– I mean, would you perhaps like to discuss the, ah, nature of our relationship?”

“I–” I couldn’t make my words work. “I guess if you think– are we ready to do that?”

“What’s the matter?”

“I– ugh, I’m sorry. I’ve already had like four cups of coffee today, and I’m nervous, and I guess the question caught me off guard.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his forehead lined. “I just think, in the past, we both had our struggles communicating.” I nodded. “I thought it might put both our minds at ease if we were sure we’re on the same page.”

“That makes sense.” My hand left his as I moved back to my chair. I tried not to think about how things were before: complicated, confusing, sad. I took a deep breath. “Can I tell you what I think?”

“Please do,” he said with a shy smile.

“I like you, Harvey. Last year, even when I was angry and upset with you, I still cared about you. But I really need to be sure we’re not rushing into anything.”

“I agree,” he said.

“But I would still like to spend more time with you, um, socializing.”

“I would like that too.” Harvey’s smile had been steadily growing. I feared the next thing I said might take it away.

“I have one other concern.”

“Yes?”

“People have been saying a lot of things about me lately. And I don’t want that to cause problems for you, you know? You’re, like, part of the whole – community thing.” Once I’d begun to express them, my thoughts poured from my mouth. “It feels like kind of a miracle nobody found out about us last summer. Well, besides–”

“Peach.” Harvey’s eyebrows raised and lined his forehead. “I know you talked to– Elliott about what– happened. Who else knows exactly?”

“Nobody who will say anything,” I said. “Shane.”

“So just the four of us?”

“Well, that’s, um. Maru knows something happened.” I glanced at the window over his shoulder. “She figured it out on her own. We weren’t exactly sneaky.” Harvey stared at the mug between his hands. His cheeks flushed pink, and a small smile crept to his lips.

“We weren’t, were we?” He raised his eyes to meet mine. I tried to hide my blush behind my cup of coffee.

“That’s all I had to say, I think.” I picked at a splinter on the corner of the table. “We can talk about it now.”

“We’re already talking about it, Peach.” His lips smiled around my name.

“I guess you’re right. Sorry for hijacking the conversation.”

“No need to apologize. I’m happy you’ve been upfront with me about your concerns. I hope you’ll continue because I want this– I want _us_ to work.” Harvey reached across the table and took my hand. I softened under the sincerity of his light green gaze. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to mess this up. So, I would like it if we could be honest with each other about what we’re thinking and– feeling.”

“Okay,” I said.

“As for the, ah, physical nature of our relationship,” he said, cheeks reddening again. “I’m not sure how to– proceed. That is, I don’t think I need to tell you that I’m very attracted to you.”

“I, um, assumed as much,” I breathed. My face flushed as my heart thumped against my ribs.

“I would just like to know your thoughts on– how you would like to– in the future–” He cleared his throat.

“I haven’t really thought about– I mean, I _have_ thought–” My burning cheeks could have melted through a block of ice. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” I took a breath. “Can we figure that out as we go? And, like you said, keep talking about what we’re feeling?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he chuckled, his mustache twitching. His eyes crinkled behind his glasses. 

“Harvey?”

“Yes, Peach?” He gave my hand a soft squeeze.

“For the sake of being on the same page. If you were to label this, what are we to each other?”

“We are, ah, exploring the possibility of a deeper relationship?”

“So, we’re talking?”

“I didn’t realize there was a specific word for this situation,” he chuckled. “But yes, I suppose we’re talking. What would be the next step?”

“I guess, seeing each other in public? Dating? Unless, when we get there, you want to call it something else,” I said. “Just one last question. Is this– are we exclusive? Like I don’t plan on seeing anyone else, but I figured I’d ask.”

“I only want you, Peach.”

I let go of Harvey’s hand and stood from my chair. I circled the table behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“I only want you too.” I kissed his cheek before he turned in his chair. His gentle fingertips brushed below my ear, and his thumb caressed my cheek. Our lips met in a soft, tickly kiss, and my heart swelled as it had the last time, and every time before. I found his eyes crinkled in a wide smile.

“Did you have anything else you wanted to talk about?” I said as he slid his chair away from the table and pulled me into his lap.

“Nothing else comes to mind,” he said softly, and he kissed me again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't stop writing about these awkward little dorks. I have at least a short term idea for a plot working at the moment, but I think this work is going to be a bit more episodic/slice-of-lifey, and defo more lighthearted than Sowing Uncertainty. We'll just have to see what falls out of my brain. Hope you enjoy 😙😙


	2. party boy problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains spoilers for Alex's two heart event. I do not claim ConcernedApe's work as my own.

Toward the end of summer, when the days were warm, but there was the slightest suggestion of a chill on the breeze, the air smelled mellow and sweet as if the tired earth were exhaling its last wakeful breaths before a long rest. I felt suspended in time, hovering in a fleeting moment between two seasons. This time of year made me think of apples, school supplies, and digging sweaters and thick blankets out of storage, praying they didn’t smell musty. I thought wistfully of younger days when each new school year satisfied my ever-present craving for a fresh start. I took a deep breath, trying to soak in as much of the sunny, yellow-green beauty of it all before it withered away.

It was Wednesday, and Shane was at JojaMart, Pierre’s was closed, and I had run out of groceries. I decided to visit Emily at the saloon to take care of my hunger and slight loneliness alike. She had been at least able to understand the abridged version of my side of the Elliott story and had made me feel like she could understand why I’d acted the way I had. Still, it was tough to watch her have to split her time between me and Leah, who’d only recently begun to acknowledge me again. I couldn’t blame her; I’d broken her best friend’s heart and, in her eyes, driven him away from the valley. I wondered if he’d told her he’d decided to leave months before he had moved as I pushed open the saloon door. The place was empty, the way I preferred it. I slipped into a seat at the bar’s corner, hanging my bag on the back of my chair. Emily appeared from the kitchen a moment later, grinning when she saw me and scampered my way.

“Hi! It’s been a while,” she grinned. “How’re you doing?”

“Things are good,” I said. “I didn’t get to talk to you much last weekend. How are you?”

“Great,” Emily beamed. “You hungry?”

“Yes.”

“The special today is eggplant parm. Or do you want a salad?”

“Eggplant parm sounds good.”

“Water?”

“Please,” I smiled. Emily disappeared through the swinging doors and reappeared a minute later. She poured me a glass of water and garnished it with two slices of lemon. I picked up one of the yellow wedges and bit into its juicy pulp, separating it from the pith, enjoying the tart burst, and the slight citrusy sting on my lips.

“So Saturday night was fun,” Emily said. I shrugged, placing the peel on my napkin. “Totally weird thought, right?”

“Super weird,” I said. “But yeah, kinda fun.”

“I can’t believe Maru got Harvey to come out.” My cheeks slightly warmed when she mentioned him, but she didn’t seem to notice my reaction. I played with the straw in my water. “I was glad you had somebody to not party next to. You were like two peas in a shy little pod,” she laughed. “Which is why I was so shocked to hear about Alex.” I met Emily’s brown eyes.

“What did you hear about Alex?” I asked, knowing it couldn’t be anything good.

“Haley’s _pissed_. She told me Alex spent the night.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “So, what's that all about?”

“Literally nothing. What exactly is he saying?”

“Just that he stayed over, and you made him breakfast in the morning.”

“Damnit, Alex.” I put my head on the bar next to my glass.

“Is he lying? He didn’t come back to town 'til Sunday afternoon, a bunch of people saw him walking home.”

“No, I mean, he was there,” I said. “He passed out in my bathtub, and I found him there Sunday morning, still drunk. I let him sleep it off, fed him some eggs, made him clean up his mess, and leave.” Emily’s face morphed from skeptical to thoroughly amused as she broke into a fit of laughter.

“Hilarious,” she sighed, still grinning.

“Except for the part where he’s telling everyone– what exactly?”

“He’s letting them fill in the blanks,” Emily shrugged.

“Fucking little fucker,” I grumbled. “Has Haley slapped him? Because if she hasn’t, I will.”

“What’s the big deal, Peach? You’re not usually one to get worked up over the rumor mill. Especially after– you know.”

“Okay, but I feel like everyone knew most of that other stuff wasn’t true. But it doesn’t help that a presumably involved party is corroborating… things. Like people will repeat _this_ because they think it happened, when before they were just being mean.”

“You’d– you’d rather them be mean?”

“In this case, kinda.”

“That makes no sense, girl. Unless,” she lowered her voice although we were the only ones there. “Are you worried about this getting back to Elliott?”

“What? No.” I’d been worried about what Harvey would think, but since she’d mentioned it, I didn’t want Elliott to believe I'd spent the night with Alex either. My stomach twisted, and my chest felt twitchy.

“Shane?”

“No, Shane already knows wh– why would I give a shit about what Shane hears about me?”

“Nevermind,” Emily said. I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t even understand how you guys managed to leave without him.”

“Oh, Leah and I had our hands plenty full with Haley, and by the time we left, we figured Alex had wandered home by himself. Like, Maru had left by that point, and those two were talking a _lot_ if you didn’t notice.” She paused. “Come to think of it; I think Clint and Willy and the weird kid trinity were the most normal little subgroups that night. Like, Shane and Penny? Who knew they could talk to each other for more than twenty seconds.”

“I guess I have to give Alex some credit for mixing things up a bit,” I said with a sigh.

“And without your fire pit, and my mistake of not being an only child, it never could have happened,” Emily laughed.

“I think I might still kick his ass.”

“I’ll tell Haley the truth when I get home tonight. You won’t need to lift a finger.”

I smiled and took a sip of my water. “Not to be gossipy, but what’s even the deal with those two?”

“Nobody knows the answer to that question. Not even them,” she said, rolling her eyes as she walked away down the length of the bar. She disappeared through the doors again and came back with a plate of tomatoey, cheesy comfort. Emily pulled herself on top of the bar and sat next to me while I ate.

“So, um. You’ve been hanging around with Leah a lot lately.”

“Yep.”

“Does she still hate me?” I looked tentatively up at her.

“Less?” Emily said, tilting her blue head a bit to her right.

“Fuck.”

“I mean…”

“I know, I fucking suck,” I groaned.

“I was gonna say Leah was friends with Elliott before she was friends with you.”

“Yeah, that too.”

“Look, Peachy. She’ll come around. I can tell she misses you.” Emily often said this, and while I didn’t quite believe it, I was still glad she’d said it. “Also, if you ask me, Elliott only got as much sympathy as he did because he cried in public instead of at home like you.”

“Damn, Em.”

“Just an observation,” she shrugged.

“He needed more support than I did.”

“Peach, breakups don’t only hurt one person.”

“Tell me about it,” I laughed dryly. “My mom took the whole thing so personally.”

“Wasn’t she mostly pissed because she heard about it from Elliott rather than you?”

“Which is _weird_ , right? Like what business do they even have talking to each other?”

“Really?”

“I was gonna tell her.”

“You waited like a month,” Emily laughed.

“I know,” I whined. “I just didn’t want all the… questions.”

“But, you still got all the questions _and_ a surprise visit.”

“Don’t remind me,” I groaned. “They wanted me to move home with them. I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old.”

“Yeah, your mom is something else.”

“And then some.” I pushed my plate away and finished my water. “Anyway, next time you hear someone say something about the Alex thing, would you mind telling them he’s a lying little punk?”

“Definitely,” she grinned.

“And if you see _him_ , tell him he’d better pray he doesn’t run into me,” I said. Emily burst into laughter again.

“He’s like ten inches taller than you.”

“He _says_ he is.”

“If you really want to give him a piece of your mind, he’s probably at the beach right now. And, hey, you totally don’t have to avoid going there anymore.”

“Thanks? For the info, not so much the method of delivery,” I laughed. 

“I’m a no-nonsense kinda bitch, and that’s why you love me.” Emily shrugged.

“That’s why,” I smiled and pulled some cash out of my bag to pay for my lunch. I set it on the counter and hopped out of the high stool.

“Going to the beach?” Emily asked, still sitting on the bar.

“If you never see Alex again, you’ll know I did.” I waved and stepped back into the town square, the gorgeous day feeling a little less magical. I headed south and crossed the river, already smelling the salt on the breeze that pushed inland from the sea. I pretended not to notice the vacant cabin to my left as I passed through the wooded area before crossing the dunes. I hadn’t seen the beach at all that summer. Nearly all my memories of the place felt polluted, and their sweetness obscured, a film of dark oil on water. I reached the sandy expanse and looked around.

“Hey farm girl, heads up!” I stepped sideways as a ball whizzed past my head and bounced into the patch of trees behind me. Alex laughed and jogged toward me. “Nice try.”

“I didn’t.” I folded my arms, glaring at him.

“I don’t expect you to be able to handle these skills.” He flexed before stepping into the trees to retrieve his ball. “I’m gonna go pro, you know.”

“Sure.” I said. 

“You’re just jealous.” He tucked the gridball under his arm and scowled.

“And you’re just a– little liar,” I said, sounding more like a kid on the playground than I would have preferred.

“Hey, what’s that about?” He said, feigning innocence.

“Why are you telling people you slept over?”

“I didn’t say anything that isn’t true. I _did_ sleep over. And you _did_ make me eggs in the morning,” Alex said with a smug grin.

“I made you _afternoon_ eggs. After you slept at my _table_ for five hours and _in my bathtub_ for four before that.” I glared at him, counting his indiscretions on my fingers. “You threw a party at my house, crashed without permission, got more sleep than I did, and now you’re letting people think we slept together or something. What the fuck, dude?”

“Well at least they’re not talking about you and Dr. Harvey.” He shrugged, retaining his irksome grin. 

“ _And_ you remember that. Wonderful.”

“Yeah, and I’d expect at least a little appreciation for not saying anything about it.” He laughed.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” I laughed cynically. “What you _did_ say is way worse.”

“Oh really? So I guess you wouldn’t mind if I told everyone I saw you two about to smooch.” 

“Smooch?” A genuine laugh slipped out of me. “What are you, twelve?”

“I’m a strapping twenty-four-year-old _man_ , thanks very much.” He grinned, seemingly pleased that he’d made me smile. “Besides, what’s wrong with people thinking we fooled around? You could do much worse in this town.” I rolled my eyes.

“Look, Alex, if you quit lying to people, and continue not to say anything about what you saw on Saturday, I think we’ll be even.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Okay, and I won’t tell anyone you spit up on yourself like an infant.”

“Let me throw another party. How about next Saturday?”

“No,” I laughed incredulously. 

“Come on, please?” He widened his eyes like a begging puppy. “That was like the coolest night this town has seen in a _while_. And you can’t tell me you didn’t have fun.”

“Not the point.”

“Come on, farm girl. Your place is cool, everyone had fun, so why not?”

“Because it makes you unhappy,” I smirked.

“Damn, you’re kinda mean.”

“I haven’t been yet, but I can show you mean.”

“Oh, feisty,” he smirked.

“Fuck off, Alex.” I began to turn to walk back toward the path, knowing I would get nowhere with him.

“When you get bored of that old man, come and see me,” he winked. I burst into laughter at the ridiculous suggestion. His face seemed to fall for a fraction of a moment, but his confidence made a quick recovery. “I’m just saying, I’m the next tallest guy in town, and you seem to have a type.”

“You’re not that tall,” I said dismissively.

“Okay miss 5’3,” he laughed.

“Say anything else, and I’ll throw your ball in the ocean.”

“Deal, if we can party next Saturday.”

“Fine, whatever,” I called as I started backward on the trail that led back to town. “Your buddies can hang out at the farm if you shut the fuck up.”

I turned and left the beach, feeling about as salty as the water that washed ashore behind me. I hoped I’d done enough to squish this stupid rumor. I almost trusted Alex to stop running his mouth, though I scolded myself for falling into his lighthearted extortion, sure that I had only reinforced his behavior. At least Emily was widely regarded as a trustworthy source of information. It seemed knowing everyone and everything came with the territory of working as a bartender in such a tiny town. I was sure she would be able to set most people straight. I sighed and headed for the square, knowing there was one more person I needed to see. I took deep, even breaths as I passed the saloon, and crossed the square at an angle before coming to a stop, and knocking on the clinic door.


	3. best laid plans

Though the clinic had been closed for a while, I hoped Harvey might still be downstairs and hear me knocking. My lungs felt prickly as I stood outside the door, waiting to see if he’d respond.

“The clinic closed at three,” a voice called. I stepped away from the door and looked around. “Up here, farmer,” Abigail laughed. Her purple hair fell like a curtain around her face as she looked down from the upstairs window of Pierre’s store.

“Oh, hi,” I said, taking another step back so I could see her better. “I know, I just was hoping to ask Harvey something.”

“He isn’t there.”

“Oh,” I said. For a split second, I considered asking Abigail if she knew where he was. I decided against it. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” She half-smiled before disappearing from the window. The pane slid closed a moment later, and the square was quiet again. 

The town seemed eerily empty for such a bright and mild afternoon. I supposed there wasn’t much reason for people to be out and about when the town’s only shop was closed for the day. I tried to figure out what I should do. Since Shane would be back at Willowbrook the next day, I thought I might have an opportunity to pop by the clinic and talk to Harvey. It was my best bet, assuming he didn’t have any appointments scheduled. I started toward home, knowing my other idea, just waiting outside the clinic until Harvey eventually came back, was probably not a good one. I hoped Maru wasn’t one to listen to gossip. She seemed like she wouldn’t have the patience for it. I was still unsure how she felt about me, but I was sure the other rumors hadn’t helped anything. If her having suggested that Harvey visit the farm was any indication, there was, at the very least, hope that things between us were improving. I didn’t want the Alex thing to set everything back.

I walked along the dusty path, wishing Mayor Lewis had reconsidered his decision not to extend the telephone lines to reach the farm. However much I preferred feeling disconnected from the chaos of the world, I would have killed to be able to make a call or send an email that day. A note might have worked if I’d had something to write on, or somewhere to put it where I could be sure Harvey would find it. Even if those options had been viable, I wanted to have this conversation face to face. I needed to know he knew the things Alex had implied happened would never happen. I defeatedly climbed the porch steps and, upon entering the house, pulled off my work clothes, changing into a pair of leggings and a big, soft hoodie. I fell into my bed and watched the daylight fade through the gap between the curtains.

Twiggy cried from the other room, a round, soprano meow. I snapped my fingers a couple of times, and the grey cat trotted into the room, hopping up on the bed. She tickled me with her whiskers as she purred in my face. I gently pet her as she walked back and forth in front of me, her affection motivated by the empty food dish in the kitchen. My stomach growled, and I tried to think of what I could pull together from what little food I had in the house. After a year of eating more oatmeal than anything else, I would only consider it a last resort, especially since I had no apples. I thought I might have a slice of cheese left, and some unpickled hot peppers and a couple of eggs. It would be better than nothing, and much better than oatmeal. 

“Come on, cat,” I said, sitting up in bed and swinging my legs over the edge. Twiggy mewed up at me, rubbing against my legs as we went to the kitchen. I scooped some cat food into her bowl and reached down to scratch under her chin before she turned her full attention to her meal. 

I pulled a few hot peppers out of the fridge and rinsed them before dicing them and pouring them into a bowl. I put the cutting board and knife in the sink before I washed my hands, running my right thumb along the pink scar that stretched across my left palm. Twiggy stiffened at a knock at the door and slunk quickly down the hallway to hide. I wiped my hands on my leggings and pulled the door open. Harvey stood in front of me, having already opened the screen door, a grave expression on his face.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, stepping a few paces into the house before turning to face me. I closed the door quietly and raised my eyes to his face. He didn’t seem angry, but there was something in his expression that made my heart race. “I– I think I made a mistake.”

I remained by the door with a sinking feeling in my chest, momentarily cast back into a bad memory. I took a breath to speak, but my words never left my open mouth. Harvey wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. I stood still, confused.

“I’m sorry, Peach, please don’t be angry.” He sunk into a chair at the table. “I don’t know how to explain. I– I heard Jodi and Caroline talking today. About you.”

“Oh,” I said. I pulled the other chair around and sat near him at the corner of the table.

“They said that you had, to put it courteously, an overnight guest on Saturday night. That Alex spent the night with you, implying that something  _ happened _ between the two of you.”

“I can exp-”

“Of course, I know it isn’t true. I was the last to leave that night.”

“Harvey, I know what people are saying. And why they’re saying it.” I took a breath, hoping my explanation would be enough. “I tried to find you earlier. I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else. Alex kind of  _ did _ stay here on Saturday.” Harvey looked confused, and then momentarily hurt. “But it’s not like that, he passed out drunk in my bathtub, and I didn’t know until I found him in the morning. I let him sleep off his hangover and gave him something to eat before I made him go home. I should have told you Sunday when you were here, but I wasn’t thinking. I just- I’m sorry, please don’t be mad. I had no idea he was going to say all that stuff.”

“Oh,” Harvey said, quietly drumming his long fingers on the table. “I see. I– I may have told the ladies off for telling lies about you.”

“Did you?” Despite my nervousness, a small smile crept to my lips.

“Yes.” Harvey nodded. “I think I let my anger get the better of me.”

“What did you say?” I said, resting my arms on the table.

“I told them they were acting a quarter of their age and that they should be ashamed of themselves.” His eyes found mine. “They were so cruel, and I couldn’t listen to them say those things about you. Before I realized what was happening, I was defending you, and, I’m sorry, but I may have let it slip that you and I are– more than friends.”

“Oh.” 

“I hadn’t meant to say it. It– it just came out,” Harvey said, seemingly aggravated at his reaction to the situation. “Are you angry?”

“No, I’m just surprised,” I said softly. “I thought we were keeping this to ourselves for now.” I wasn’t entirely sure how to react. I weighed my inclination for privacy against the idea of Harvey angrily defending me from the town’s nosy mothers. I found myself wishing I could have seen him at that moment.

“I know. I surprised myself, to be honest. But you don’t deserve to be– slandered that way. Had either of them ever bothered to talk to you, to get to  _ know _ you, they wouldn’t–”

“Harvey,” I said, reaching for his hand, wrapping my fingers around his. “Thank you.” I smiled as he released his breath, his eyes on mine again, his mustache twitching into a tentative smile. “I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking shit, but they probably won’t do it around you anymore.”

“I’m not sure, but I think they may stop. It turned out I might not have needed to say anything at all because Marnie stepped in and let them have it. She’s very fond of you.”

“Wait, Marnie was there too? Where were you?”

“Ah, well,” he said, looking a bit embarrassed. “Several of the ladies in town gather weekly for a bit of aerobic exercise. I’ve been joining them semi-regularly for the past few months. Physical activity is good for the mind as well as the body, you know,” he mumbled. “I’d, ah, appreciate you not mentioning my whereabouts to anyone else.”

“No worries. I’m not into gossip.” I squeezed Harvey’s hand before I stood from my chair and stretched. “It sounds like we both had a weird day. Would you like to talk about it over a dinner of spicy, cheesy, scrambled eggs?”

“Is that all you’re having?”

“I was thinking about opening a bottle of wine. That kind of day, you know?” I smiled. “You’re making your doctor face.”

“I’m trying not to,” he chuckled softly.

“I forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday.”

“Well,” he said. “Would you like me to drop by the saloon and pick up something to balance that out? Or... we could go together.”

“That’s a tough choice,” I said, moving closer to him. “Because I don’t want to put real clothes back on, but I also don’t want you to leave.”

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” 

“Nothing, I guess. I just don’t want you to be embarrassed of me.”

“How could I be?” He wrapped an arm around me, and his green eyes smiled up at me. I touched his shoulder and gently ran the tips of my fingers across his back.

“Hi, by the way.”

“Hello,” he chuckled as he stood and folded me up in his arms.

“Are you sure spicy eggs and wine isn’t enough?” I asked. Harvey gazed into my eyes, seeming to think it over for a moment. He leaned toward me and placed a soft kiss on my lips.

“I am,” he said.

“Positive?” I breathed, my lips not quite brushing his with every movement of the word. He let his eyes fall closed and pressed his mouth to mine, one hand climbing my back, holding me closer. I leaned into him, my hands on his arms. His thumb slipped under the hem of my sweatshirt and swept across the skin of my waist. I let out a small, giggling gasp at the contact. Harvey pulled away, his hand on my waist retreating. I held him at his elbow, holding him still.

“Peach,” he said softly.

“Hmm?” I met his eyes.

“You’re making me question my better judgment.” 

“Sorry,” I smiled. “If I pick option one, do you promise you’ll come back?”

“I promise,” he said, smiling gently, curling a strand of my hair around his finger. 

I walked Harvey to the porch and waited there until the gate had closed behind him. Blue dusk surrounded the farm, and a yellow crescent moon slowly rose above the trees. It was a warmer night than the last few had been; the air was balmy and loud with crickets calling back and forth to each other in the woods. We couldn’t waste this night indoors. I pushed back into the house and went to the dresser in my room, pulling open the bottom drawer and grabbing a blanket. I shoved it into a bag along with a bottle of wine and corkscrew, a couple of jars, and silverware. I threw the bowl of chopped peppers in the fridge, figuring I could probably save them and the eggs for breakfast in the morning. I grabbed the bag and brought my radio out to the porch, fiddling with the tuning, trying to find anything other than static.

The ring of porch light grew brighter on the ground as night blanketed the farm. Soon I heard the gate creak open again, and moments later, Harvey stepped into the light carrying a plastic bag. I switched off the radio and stuffed it into my bag before pulling the straps over my shoulder. I hopped down the steps and met Harvey in front of the house. 

“I had an idea,” I said, holding my hand out to him. 

“Oh?” he said, eying the bag on my shoulder. “What is it?”

“You’ll see,” I grinned. Harvey looked a little uneasy, but he took my hand, and I led him through the flower garden. Excited, I tried not to rush along the dirt path between my sections of crops, until we’d passed the cornfield. I brought him to the middle of what would one day soon be a grazing pasture. I set the bag on the ground and pulled out the blanket, shaking it out and spreading it out on the ground. I sat at the edge of the quilt and unpacked the radio and the wine. 

“Do you know a good station?” I asked. “I can never find anything on this thing.” Harvey sat next to me, taking the radio out of my hands. He turned it on and tuned into a station almost immediately. 

“You changed your mind about the eggs?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know how to get them out here. I can always make them later if you think we still need them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled. “It’s getting pretty dark.”

“We should eat fast, then.” I opened the bottle of wine and poured two jars while Harvey unpacked the food from the saloon, two salads, and one portion of spaghetti. My mouth watered at the smell of Gus’s tomato sauce. “Thanks, by the way. For coming back. And for the food.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. He smiled softly and touched the rim of his jar to mine, and we drank. 

The moon seemed to get smaller as it climbed higher in the sky. When we finished our meal, there was very little light left. We packed away the food containers, and I topped off our jars of wine before putting the cork back in the bottle. The radio played an old song I thought I might have heard before; a soulful voice sang deep and slow, lonely, haunted by her memories. 

“It’s pretty here,” Harvey said after a little while. “It’s a shame it’s too dark to see.”

“I didn’t bring you here to see the meadow,” I said. I took another big sip of wine before setting it down. I took Harvey’s glass and replaced it with my hand, moving a little closer to him. “Look up.” 

Harvey smiled at the endless stars stretched high above us, his glasses reflecting the curve of white moonlight. I flopped back on the blanket, and he laid softly down beside me. Before I moved to the valley, I had never seen stars like this. In the city, the night sky was nothing but dull grey; the darkness polluted with neon and streetlights. Growing up in the suburbs, I thought I’d known the night sky, but nothing could compare to the million points of twinkling light above the valley.

“There are two things in the world that make me feel tiny, like a little speck,” I said. “The ocean and the sky. It’s like… perspective, I guess. Almost every tiny dot up there is bigger than our planet. I can look at the water or up at the sky and feel my problems shrink away because there’s stuff out there that’s infinitely bigger than whatever it is I’m dealing with.” Harvey squeezed my hand.

“I like to watch birds,” he said, “because they can do what I can’t. Be up in it, above everything. It all must look so small from so high up. If I think about it for too long, it makes me dizzy.”

“In a good way?”

“In kind of a frightening way.” 

“Everything up there looks small from down here, too.”

“True, but at least we’re stuck to the surface we’re lying on,” he chuckled.

“It’s kinda funny,” I thought aloud.

“What is?”

“Gravity. Like it holds us all down here, but it’s also the thing that scares us when we go up high. Because if we fall, it pulls us back, and we get hurt.”

“That’s funny?”

“Not like ha-ha funny,” I said. “It– like it wants us to be safe. It holds us all close to keep us from floating away into whatever dangerous things are out there beyond our world. And when people climb or fly, it always calls them back. Like when you trip over and fall, it hurts, and we remember that pain when we get further away from the ground, and I think that’s what makes it scary.”

“Are you afraid of heights too?”

“I’m afraid of gravity. It reminds me of my mom.” I wondered why I’d said that and quickly changed the subject. “Do you have a favorite bird?”

“The albatross, maybe,” Harvey said after some thought. “They can go around the whole world in a little over a month, and they spend most of their lives in the air. Some scientists think they sleep while they fly, but that’s hard to prove.”

“I like vultures.”

“Why?”

“Because they fly for fun. Vultures go up miles higher than any other bird, like higher than they need to to find food, and they just ride along the air currents and enjoy being up there, far away.” I said. “And even the smallest ones have wings that stretch almost as wide as I am tall. And they’re pretty in their own way.”

“They eat dead things,” he said, sounding a bit repulsed.

“So do people,” I laughed. “I mean, sure they have some gross habits, but they fit into their little circle in the world. Did you know that in some cultures, instead of burying their dead, they’ll leave the remains of their loved ones for the vultures and other scavenging creatures? I think it’s cool that they want to give their bodies back to nature when they’re finished using them.”

“That’s a bit morbid.”

“Sorry,” I said softly. “I just find it fascinating.” We laid there quietly for a little while, watching the stars as the radio sang a staticky song about falling in love.

“Why did you say gravity reminds you of your mother?” Harvey asked.

“Because they’re the same,” I said, nervous and wishing I had thought more before saying all I’d said. “Can we pretend I didn’t bring her up? And the vultures too? I wanted tonight to be cute and fun, and now I feel like I made it weird.” Harvey squeezed my hand again, turning his head to look at me.

“You’re cute and fun. And maybe a little bit weird, but please don’t think you’re ruining anything by being you,” Harvey said. “We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to.”

“Do you like your family?”

“Well, yes, I suppose I do.”

“I love my family. But I’m pretty sure I’m not the daughter my mom signed up for. What’s your family like?”

“Weird,” he said with a smile. “I’m the only child my parents had together, but I have four half-siblings, one older, three younger.”

“So, I guess your parents aren’t still together?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it wasn’t for a long time, but I learned to adapt.”

“Are you close with your siblings?”

“My older sister on my mom’s side. We weren’t close as kids, but now we talk occasionally. My dad’s kids are still, well, kids. I think the oldest is 17 now? I see them now and then, but I can’t say we have much in common,” he chuckled.

“I always wondered what it was like to have siblings. My mom always said it’s overrated. She has a brother she never talks to. Dad’s an only child.”

“Were you lonely growing up?”

“Yes and no,” I said. “I would have loved to have other kids to play with growing up. But I got a lot of attention from my parents. They might have spoiled me a little.”

“I wouldn’t have ever known.”

“It’s dark; I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say you seem spoiled,” he said. “Strong-willed, maybe.”

“That’s probably the kindest way I’ve been called stubborn,” I laughed.

“I don’t mean it negatively,” he said.

“I believe you.” I tilted my head to touch his shoulder, and he kissed my forehead.

“Peach?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry again, for telling Jodi and Caroline.”

“It’s okay, Harvey. Really,” I said softly. “You might have done me a favor, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure you remember Alex, um, walking in on us on Saturday.”

“I remember.”

“Well, I had hoped he drank enough to not remember, but it turns out he did. And I  _ may _ have let him blackmail me into letting him host another party on the farm next weekend.” 

“You– he– what?” he stammered. 

“I wanted to keep him from saying anything about you and me, but also to stop letting people think… what Jodi and Caroline thought. But now I can tell him it’s off. I think he’s mostly harmless, but somebody’s gonna slap that boy one day,” I laughed. “I think I would have told him no if I didn’t have such a good time talking to you that night.” Harvey narrowed his eyes and smiled. He brought my knuckles to his lips and kissed them softly.

“So, are you going to cancel?”

“Only if you’re not gonna come.”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“You have time to decide.” I stretched my neck to reach his cheek with my kiss. Harvey let go of my hand, moved his fingers to my cheek, and found my eyes. “Thank you again for dinner.”

“You’re welcome, Peach.”

“Harvey, I– um,” I started softly. Harvey’s lips found mine. He kissed me wholly, his mouth sweet like the wine. My fingers weaved through his wavy hair, my other hand gripping the collar of his shirt. 

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away for a moment. “What were you going to say?”

“Basically that,” I breathed and pulled him back to me.


	4. take a breath

Tiny sparks hovered over the flickering flames before disappearing into the dusky blue air. I didn’t have much to say to the small group gathered around my fire pit. Shane had disappeared not long after Alex had arrived with Haley and a twenty-four pack of beer. I had considered doing the same. Instead, I sat on the ground near the fire with half a can of warm beer, my back against the thick log, which served as my primary outdoor seating. My eyes periodically flicked between the fire and the gate, holding onto the hope that Harvey might show up. I hadn’t seen him in ten days, and my thoughts kept flipping between optimism and dismay. One moment I would conclude he’d changed his mind and didn’t want to see me anymore. The next, I would remind myself we’d both been busy, and we would see each other soon. I told myself he might still come by; he'd shown up late the last time. I swallowed a mouthful of flat beer and wiped a drip from my chin with my sleeve.

“Where _is_ everyone?” Haley asked, slumped over the arm of one of my kitchen chairs.

“Sam and Sebastian had band practice,” Alex said, “Abby’s with them, they said they might come by later. Maru had stuff to do, and I didn’t ask Penny.”

“Aww, are we not fun enough, Haley?” Emily laughed, and Leah giggled softly beside her.

“No,” Haley grumbled. “This is boring as fuck. I don’t know why you wanted to come here so bad, Alex.”

“It’s better than your room,” he said. “Though, now that I’m thinking about it, we probably could have done this better on the beach.” I let out a dry laugh, tossing a small twig into the flames. Of course, he would have realized this _after_ demanding this party in exchange for his silence. 

“Why do you keep watching the gate, farm girl? Expecting a house call?” Alex glared at me, clearly no longer feeling obligated to hold up his end of the deal. I ignored the mildly confused looks on the others’ faces and downed the last of my beer.

“Anyone need anything from inside?” I stood and brushed a few leaves off the back of my jeans.

“I could use another,” Alex said, tossing his empty can at me. I snatched it out of the air, resisting a slight temptation to throw it at his head.

“I’ll come with you,” Leah said, standing from her seat on the log next to Emily. I glanced at Emily, who smiled brightly. With a shrug, I started toward the house, and Leah followed me inside. I opened the door of the old fridge and pulled out two cold cans.

“Want a beer?” I asked. I realized these were the first words I’d spoken directly to her in months.

“Actually, do you have something to open this?” She held up a bottle of wine I hadn’t noticed she’d brought.

“Oh, sure.” I opened the drawer and handed her the corkscrew and a jar, reminding myself again that most adults use actual glasses, and I should probably buy some. I set one of the cans on the table and popped open the other. The cheap, watery beer ran down my throat, less metallic tasting cold than it had been warm.

“Weird that it’s almost fall, huh?” she asked, pulling the cork out of the bottle.

“Yeah,” I said, “weird.” I watched as Leah filled her jar and wondered if I should say something else. I took a breath and decided I’d probably been avoiding this long enough. “Look, Leah I–”

“Peach, I think–” she started. “Sorry, you go ahead.”

“No, I mean, you can– are you sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said with the tiniest half-smile.

“I’m sorry about what happened with… Elliott.” I wondered when I’d last said his name out loud. “I seriously fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did,” she said a slight edge to her clear voice. She took a sip of wine. “You ripped his heart out and made him move away.” I deserved that. Worse than that, I thought. Leah set her glass down and leaned against the table. “At least, that’s what I thought for a while. Don’t be mad at Emily, but she told me some things you told her about that whole situation. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think Elliott fucked up too.”

I twisted the can in my hand, my fingertips raking dry streaks through tiny beads of condensation. Everything I’d wanted to say to Leah for months suddenly flooded my head, and I couldn’t settle on just one thing. I wanted to hug her, maybe cry. I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully from the cacophony inside my mind.

“I, um– I know how much it must suck not to have your best friend around anymore,” I said. “And I’m really sorry for– I mean, I never meant for things to turn out the way they did. I swear this isn’t an excuse, um, I was in a fucked up place, like, mentally, when all that happened.”

“I know, Peach. And, if I can be honest, I have no idea what Elliott was thinking when he decided to propose to you.” My fingers slightly tightened around the can, which emitted a tinny crumpling noise. “Like, you’d only been together, what, eight months?”

“Something like that,” I said. “I still don’t know why I said yes.”

“Probably because you were in that tiny old boat in the middle of the ocean.” Leah’s laugh was as bright and musical as always. I smiled cautiously.

“Yeah. But more than that, Elliott was... really good at convincing me that what he wanted was what I wanted too,” I said softly. “He made everything feel so perfect that it was hard to accept it wasn’t.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Leah said. “He’s a hopeless romantic.”

I nodded and smiled sadly. I still felt a bit sick when I thought about how things between Elliott and me had ended. I wondered if it would be too much to tell Leah that I missed him too. Sometimes the farmhouse, as cramped as it was, still felt too big and empty without him here. It wasn’t that I missed the relationship that we had, but his voice, his laugh, the way he never ran out of things to say. I wondered why it had never occurred to us to just be friends. I bit my lip, supposing it was much too late for that.

“Anyway,” Leah said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I’m sorry I’ve been so cold to you. And I guess I just want to say I’m glad we’re hanging out again.”

“Me too,” I said, letting my smile grow a little. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she grinned. “Let’s put all this weirdness behind us, yeah?”

“Please,” I said. I picked up Alex’s beer and followed Leah out the screen door. Emily met us at the bottom porch step, grinning widely before wrapping the both of us into a hug.

“I’m so glad we’re all friends again,” she exclaimed, squeezing us tightly.

“Where’s my beer?” Alex asked. I broke away from Emily and tossed him the can, which he opened immediately, covering himself and Haley with wet foam.

“What the _fuck,_ Alex!” Haley shrieked.

“Chill out, Haley, it might as well be water,” Emily cackled and rolled her eyes, looping her arms with Leah and me and pulling us back toward the fire.

No one else made it out to the farm that night, and Alex and Haley wandered home out of boredom pretty early on. While I hoped this would be the last time Alex would try to throw a party on my property, I had to admit I was glad to have Leah and Emily around. Sitting with my friends in the glow of the flames, it felt like we'd been cast back into last summer, the three of us, laughing around the same fire, making plans to watch the moonlight jellies. I leaned back against the solid old log beneath the stars, nostalgia a heavy feeling in my chest.

“You’re extra quiet today,” Emily said. I looked up, noticing Leah must have gone inside. “What are you thinking about?”

“Everything,” I said with a half-smile.

“Of course,” she laughed. She rested her elbows on her knees, leaning closer. “Anything in particular?”

“Well,” I sighed. “I invited somebody over tonight, but he didn’t show.”

“Who?” Emily said, sliding off the log and folding herself up next to me on the ground. I stared at the flames in the dark, hesitating. “Don’t make me guess,” she laughed.

“I asked Harvey.” I hugged my knees a little tighter.

“Aww, did you have a good time with him the other night?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” I said, not particularly wanting to get into our whole history. The faint buzzing in my head told me if I started explaining, it might all spill out, and I didn’t want to think about how things were before. “I mean, I’m not exactly surprised he didn’t show up.”

“You kinda bummed?”

“Yeah. Like, we’ve been talking since the last bonfire. At least, we were. I haven’t heard from him since last Wednesday.”

“Did something happen?”

“We had dinner together. And I did that thing I do where my mouth moves without my brain’s permission,” I laughed softly. “He was nice about it, and I thought maybe it was fine, but half of me is convinced I scared him away.”

“What does your other half say?”

“That we’re both busy, and we’ll see each other eventually?”

“Listen to that half,” Emily said with a smile. “You know, he’ll probably be at the beach tomorrow night to watch the jellies. You can probably see him then.”

“Maybe,” I sighed. The core of a charred tree branch glowed red under a layer of ash. 

“Know what we should do?” Emily smiled, nudging my shoulder. “Let’s go to the beach early again, like last year. It’s supposed to be warm, and we can enjoy one last summer day together. We’ll grab Shane on the way down and make a fun day out of it. What do you think?”

“Sounds like fun.” I smiled, knowing I didn't truly have much say in the matter. I'd figured out, with Emily, it was easier to just say yes rather than try to argue. Even so, I couldn't think of a time I'd regretted going along with one of her ideas.

“Good, it’s a plan.”

“Emily, do you think Leah’s gonna be mad at me? For... liking someone else?” I said after a short silence. “How long are you supposed to wait to move on after being engaged, anyway?”

“First of all, Leah doesn’t expect you to be alone forever. Second, I’m pretty sure there’s no time limit on happiness, so if you think it feels right, go for it.”

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” I half-laughed. I let go of my knees and wrapped my arms around Emily, resting my head on her shoulder for a moment. 

“Well,” Emily said. “How about we make tonight a sleepover? And tomorrow I'll make sure you look super cute for when you _accidentally_ run into Harvey at the beach.” She winked.

I rolled my eyes but nodded, unable to deny that every time Emily had taken it upon herself to dress me up, it had, at the very least, made me feel a bit more confident. Leah came back outside, and we stayed out until the fire had burned down to tiny embers. I poured water over them before the three of us went into the house and squeezed into my bed, giggling and talking a while about mostly nothing. Exhausted, I fell quiet again, half-listening to Leah and Emily quietly converse until I fell asleep.

It was a nice change not to wake up alone, though I rose much earlier than the other two. I left the bed carefully and smiled at the sight of them, sharing my second pillow, Emily's chin almost resting on Leah's forehead. I started a pot of coffee and stepped out into the still-dark morning. The chickens were happy, and I spent a few minutes with them before unlatching the tiny door to let them outside. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, and combed my hair before returning to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. I wrote a bit in my journal until the others woke up.

It hadn’t taken Emily long to figure out I didn’t have much in terms of beachwear. Still, she managed to pull together a simple outfit with my black one-piece swimsuit, a light cardigan to serve as a cover-up, and a pair of lightly distressed high waisted shorts I probably would have chosen to wear anyway. She picked out a second set of clothes to keep in my bag along with the towel, sunscreen, and a few snacks I had packed. After another cup of coffee each and a late breakfast, I grabbed my sun hat off the hook by the door, and the three of us left the farm, taking the southern path toward the ranch and Leah’s cottage. Leah stopped at home to change while I went to get Shane. Emily went ahead to get ready at her place, where we planned to meet her before walking to the beach together.

The afternoon was cloudless, and I was thankful that Emily had brought an umbrella to provide some relief from the afternoon heat. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn a bathing suit. It felt weird to be outside in anything other than work clothes. I covered every inch of exposed skin in sunscreen, noticing in the bright sunlight that no matter how much I’d worn every day, I still had ended up with some weird tan lines. It suddenly made sense why Emily so often dressed me in long sleeves. Leah sat in the circle of shade, scribbling in her sketchbook while Emily chatted with Shane. I wandered down to the water a little way from the pier and let the warm waves wash over my feet before wading in about waist deep. Floating on my back, I let the calm waves wash over my shoulders. The sky overhead was brilliantly blue. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed the salty air, finally beginning to relax after a tiring week. I rejoined the others a little while later, flopping onto my towel, to let the sun warm me dry. Emily was lying on her stomach under the sun's full light. Leah had gotten up to look for shells near the empty cabin. I noticed that the makeshift bridge across the river seemed to have washed away. Shane watched the waves roll up onto the sand, half under the umbrella’s shade.

“So I think I figured out your plan for tonight,” Emily said softly, leaning closer to me.

“Plan?” I asked, confused.

“Yeah. You’re gonna watch the jellies with Harvey.”

“Oh, I thought I was going to sit with you.”

“Well yeah, you’re gonna start with us,” Emily laughed. “But you’re going to _forget_ something over here, and when you go to grab it, you’re just gonna casually bump into him and then not leave.”

“That’s... specific,” I said, resting my chin on my hand and turning toward her.

“I’ve had time to think about it,” she said. “So, what do you think?”

“I don’t know. It feels weird.”

“It’s _fine_. Look, he’s shy, and you have more nerves packed into that little body than should fit. I’m willing to bet both of you are overthinking things to the point where neither of you is _doing_ anything.”

“Emily,” I sighed, knowing she was probably spot on but unwilling to admit it.

“Do you want to watch the jellies with Harvey?” she asked. After a moment, I nodded. “So, go do it.”

“But what if he-”

“No. No ‘what if’,” Emily said firmly. “He’s gonna show up, and find a place to stand, probably off by himself somewhere. But then he’ll see you, looking all cute in your outfit with your beachy hair, and he’ll smile, and it’s _not_ gonna be weird.” I let out a small, whiny noise, nervous and not entirely convinced I wouldn’t somehow mess it all up. “On the off chance things get fucky, you’ll know where we are, so there’s no need to worry, okay?”

I nodded again and reached for my bag. I smoothed more sunscreen on my shoulders, chest, and face, even though by this point, I was mostly under the umbrella’s shade. With a smile, Emily tossed me a hairbrush before she got up to join Leah on her search for shells. As I combed through my wet hair, hoping it wouldn’t dry a frizzy mess, I talked to Shane a bit about our plans for the beginning of fall before the both of us fell quiet once again. We were both happy enough to sit with the sounds of the beach, enjoying the last entirely restful day either of us would have for a long while. Eventually, the sun began to set, and we all moved to the pier. I tried not to pay attention as more people began to make their way to the beach. I breathed in time with the calm waves, beginning to feel a bit more excited than scared as the sun sank lower in the coral sky.

“Peach,” Emily said softly with a tap on my shoulder. “I think you left your bag on the beach.”

“Shit,” I said, turning toward Emily. “Really?” She nodded with a wink.

I carefully stood and slowly walked up the pier and returned to where we had been sitting earlier. Only when my bag was on my shoulder did I begin to scan the crowd that had gathered, my eyes eventually landing on Harvey, who stood alone on the sand near the river, his dark hair blowing softly in the breeze. He looked uncharacteristically casual in a pair of shorts and a grey henley with long sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He faced the water with his head turned slightly toward the pier. I gripped the strap of my bag, took a deep breath, and started toward him. I’d barely taken three steps before he saw me. I gave a small wave, and he grinned.

“Hi,” I said when I’d reached him, smiling up at him and brushing my windswept hair out of my face.

“Hi.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” Harvey said with a small laugh. “We somehow managed to schedule half of this month’s appointments within two days of each other. Not counting the walk-ins. What have you been up to?”

“A whole bunch,” I said. “Shane and I spend the week harvesting everything, preserving what we could, and selling the rest. I had to cut all the flowers yesterday, so that was kind of sad. But we’ll be replanting over the next few days, and the farm won’t look so empty in a few weeks. Oh, and a few people came by last night, not as many as Alex’s last party. It was pretty quiet. Emily and Leah stayed over, and today we all hung out at the beach.”

“You’ve been busy,” he said.

“Yeah. Half busy and half trying to stay busy.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Oh, just because,” I said, wondering if my brain and mouth were even able to work at the same time. Harvey raised his eyebrows. “I was worried, um, you maybe didn’t want to see me,” I said softly.

“Well that isn’t the case,” he said, half smiling. “I’m glad to see you, Peach.”

“I’m happy to see you too.” My bag slipped from my shoulder to the bend in my arm. I set it on the ground before turning back to Harvey, who seemed to have just noticed my clothes, his eyes moving from the strap of my bathing suit, my cardigan falling off one shoulder, caught in the constant breeze, and back to my face. My cheeks grew warm as he leaned a bit closer.

“Did you get a sunburn?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” He lightly touched my cheek, smiling softly. “You look a bit pink.” My face grew warmer as I realized he was teasing me. I half smiled, fighting the urge to hide my face from him.

“So, Harvey, do you mind if I stay and watch the jellies with you?” I asked.

“What about your friends? Aren’t they waiting for you?” I shook my head. “Well, in that case,” he chuckled.

With a grin, I dropped down to the sand facing the water and crossed my legs. Harvey lowered himself to the ground next to me. The sky above us had darkened to an inky blue, and soon all the lights along the docks were put out. Tiny, floating lights appeared beneath the dark surface of the water. I could barely make out the excited shouts of Vincent and Jas over the rushing river and the rolling waves. I absently picked up small handfuls of sand, letting the grains slip slowly between my fingers. Harvey shifted next to me, his right knee making contact with my left. His fingers brushed against mine, and I turned to find his smiling eyes. He leaned closer, and I mirrored him, our lips meeting softly, briefly. I inched a bit closer, leaning against him as he wrapped an arm around me.

Something kept me from looking around at the others gathered on the pier and at the water’s edge. Caring about what other people might think or say about us had become exhausting. I pushed the thoughts away, like releasing a held breath. I tried to merely exist for a little while, to just experience what was happening. I felt the rhythm of the rise and fall of Harvey’s chest, calm like the light-spotted waves that washed ashore in front of us. There was a chill on the breath of the breeze that softly blew through our hair. His body felt warm and alive against my side. I was happy to be close to him again, with nothing to do but witness the glowing creatures drift along beneath the surface of the water.

I’m not sure how long we sat in silence before Harvey’s fingers tightened slightly around my waist. He’d whispered something, his lips in my hair. I gazed up at him, and his eyes seemed to confirm what I thought I’d heard.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“And go where?” I asked, my voice barely audible above the wind and waves. He kissed the side of my head, his eyes falling momentarily closed.

“Stay with me tonight,” he said, just above a whisper. Something in his voice sent a shiver across the back of my neck.

I found his eyes again and nodded before I stood and pulled my bag over my shoulder. When Harvey was back on his feet, he smiled and reached for my hand. The empty cabin’s dark windows seemed to watch us as we silently crossed the sand toward the path through the trees. My lungs filled once again with salty summer air, and I exhaled slowly. I stepped closer to Harvey, squeezed his hand, and smiled when he looked at me and squeezed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was gonna post a chapter last Friday. I had written it, but I wasn't happy with it so I started over haha. And for some reason, this version took me days longer to write than I thought it would but anyway. Here it is hope ya liked it 😅


	5. longer than now

Goosebumps rose on my legs as I stood in the dark waiting room, the yellow streetlights glowing through the slats of the closed blinds. The door locked with a metallic click. I folded my arms around me, the ends of my sleeves balled in my fists as I followed Harvey’s shadow toward the fluorescent-lit hallway. We passed through the pair of doors at the end and ascended the steps. I’d been in his apartment at least a dozen times, but it was strange to see it dimly lit by a lamp on the table, without sunlight streaming through the windows. 

Out of habit, I moved to the couch, sitting at the end by the phone, letting my bag fall to the floor. The room filled with warm light as Harvey flipped a switch on the wall. He sat beside me, and my heart beat hard and fast. I felt suspended in a state between comfort and unease. All I’d wanted was to be near him and talk to him, but when faced with the opportunity, all I’d managed to do was blather mindlessly or say nothing at all. 

Harvey leaned against the back of the couch, tilted his head toward me as if to say _what now?_ I recalled his voice, low and gravelly in my ear as he asked me to come home with him. The moment he reached for me, I pressed my mouth to his, climbed onto his lap, the cushion’s upholstery rough below my knees. His arms tightened around my waist, holding me together as I felt myself turning to liquid. My fingertips descended the sides of his face, fanning out along his neck, before resting against his chest. He turned his head, pulling away for a smiling breath, and I sat up a little straighter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in so few buttons,” I said, rolling a pinch of his cotton shirt between my thumb and fingers. He shifted under me, sitting up a little straighter, pulling me close again.

“Do I need to remind you that you’ve seen me in no buttons?” A faint flush colored his cheeks.

“There’s a difference between looking casual and not having a shirt on.” 

“Which do you prefer?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Instead of answering, I kissed him again. He leaned into me, his breath warm on my cheek. “You smell like a coconut.”

“Sunscreen,” I said, suppressing a laugh at how proud he looked that I’d taken such a simple step to protect myself from the sun. The look didn’t last. My stomach growled unexpectedly, and I clutched it, trying to muffle the noise. Harvey chuckled and shook his head.

“You haven’t had dinner, have you?”

“No,” I admitted. “I was out all afternoon.”

“Were you going to tell me you’re hungry?”

“I was _thinking_ about it,” I muttered, sliding back into the place next to him on the couch and reached for my bag. “I came prepared, though. See?” I pulled out an apple, my leftover snack from the afternoon at the beach.

“Come on, Peach,” he said, taking my hand and leading me to the kitchen. “You’re not having just an apple.”

There wasn’t much in his fridge; I could only see what looked like a jar of pickles and a few condiments. He frowned and closed the door again before moving to the pantry, where he had a few cans of spinach, green beans, and vegetable soup. I reached past him and picked up the soup, smiling at the familiar label.

“I didn’t realize how badly I need to go grocery shopping,” he muttered.

“No, this is perfect,” I said. “Before I moved here, I used to eat this all the time. I don’t buy much canned stuff these days. It’s a pain to lug it all home.”

“Are you sure that’ll be enough? I think I have a few, ah, frozen meals.” He glanced at the freezer door like he didn’t want to open it.

“Thank you, but I’m sure.” I smiled and let him take the can out of my hands. He pulled a bowl out of a cabinet above the sink.

Harvey sat me at his tiny table with a glass of water while he warmed the soup. He placed the steaming bowl on the table before sitting across from me. I gently blew on a spoonful of broth before putting it in my mouth. I smiled at the familiar flavor, something that had never changed through childhood, homesick early college days, and lonely city nights. The only difference was that I wasn’t eating it alone.

“I’m guessing you already ate?” I asked, glad I’d thought of something to say unrelated to my soup-based memories.

“Yes, I typically eat pretty early.”

“Me too, but the past couple days haven’t exactly been routine.” I ate another spoonful, enjoying the familiar way an overcooked carrot dissolved on my tongue.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the farm last night,” Harvey said after I'd had a few more bites. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It was a long week, and I’m sure you were tired.” He nodded as I picked up the bowl and drank the rest of the broth. I dried the corners of my mouth with a napkin. “Can’t say I didn’t miss you, though,” I added after a moment’s hesitation. Harvey stood, pushing his chair away from the table. He reached for my hand and pulled me up and into his arms.

“I missed you too,” he said, kissing my head.

“I know it’s like, a weird situation because I don’t have a phone, and likely won’t until Lewis decides I’m worth the expense to the town,” I laughed. “But can we find a way to talk more often?”

“I’m sure we can figure something out,” he smiled. “Will you have some time after your appointment on Thursday? I like knowing when I’ll get to see you again.” 

I beamed up at him, nodding. When he let go of me, he rinsed and set my empty bowl and spoon in the sink. I followed him back to the other room and picked up my bag. I needed to change out of my bathing suit, and rinse the sunscreen and salt off my skin.

“Any chance I can use your shower?”

“S-sure,” Harvey said. He pulled a folded towel from a closet and gestured toward a half-open door.

Harvey’s bathroom wasn’t much smaller than mine. The tops of the white half-tile walls were painted a powder blue. A standing shower stood in the corner across from a sink and a mirrored medicine cabinet. The counter space was empty other than a cup holding his toothbrush. I dropped my bag on the floor and opened the glass shower door. I turned the water on, holding my hand under the stream until I realized I’d been dripping water on the floor. I closed the shower, and when the glass walls began to fog, I dropped my shorts and pulled off my cardigan. I stepped into the shower, wearing my bathing suit, which needed a rinse as much as I did. The water plastered my hair to my back and shoulders. I pulled the straps of the bathing suit down and stepped out of it. Bunching the stretchy fabric in my hands, I let the water rush over it. I wrung it a couple of times, the material resisting my grip, before hanging it on the water knob where it would dry. Turning to the inlaid shelf on the tiled wall, I examined Harvey's shampoo and conditioner, extra moisturizing for his curly hair. They smelled like almonds. His body wash was clear and unscented, for sensitive skin. I was careful not to use any more of his things than necessary. After a thorough rinse, I ran my fingers through my hair one last time before turning off the water. 

I dried off in the steamy glass box, squeezing the excess water from my hair before stepping out onto the bathmat. I pulled out the clothes Emily packed for me, a pair of cotton shorts and a black tank top. I made a face as I realized I’d packed underwear but forgotten a bra. I dressed, putting my denim shorts back on instead of the softer pair. Feeling a bit too exposed, I pulled my cardigan back over my shoulders. I opened one of the drawers below the sink and found a grooming kit with tiny combs, scissors, a little jar of mustache wax, and some old fashioned shaving tools. I was tempted to open everything, to get a closer look at all of his things, but I resisted. I checked the next drawer down that and found a brush. I ran its teeth through the ends of my hair, working out the tangles until I reached the top of my head. I then squeezed the lengths of my hair in the towel once more before brushing it again, parting it, and praying it wouldn’t dry funny. I peeked inside the medicine cabinet, closing it right away once I’d found his tube of toothpaste. I squeezed a bit on my finger and rubbed at my teeth before swishing and spitting a mouthful of water.

I dried the remaining wet spots on the tile floor before I hung my towel next to his. Leaving the still steamy room, I opened the door to find the main room dimly lit. Harvey sat on the sofa, the TV on a documentary, muted, his radio playing quietly on the end table. I set my bag on the ground, a bit louder than necessary, so I wouldn’t startle him when I spoke. He turned toward me, smiling.

“I think I need you to make me a list of stations,” I said, nodding to the radio. “But also which direction to point the antenna for each one. I swear I can’t make mine work.” He’d changed into a pair of pajama pants and had a mug balanced on his knee. “Kinda late for coffee, isn’t it?”

“It’s decaf.” He chuckled as I made a face. “I suppose you don’t want a cup?”

“No, thanks.” I half-smiled as I circled the back of the sofa, settling on the cushion to his right. 

He set down his mug and rested his arm along the back of the couch behind me. I watched him for a moment before turning to face the TV, on which a history documentary played silently. Subtitles typed themselves over a wartime letter from a general to his wife. I kept my eyes on the screen as I inched closer, eventually nestling against him. His arm wrapped around me, his hand on the curve of my hip. I rested my head on his shoulder, pulling my damp hair to one side so as not to soak his shirt. My nerves had more or less subsided, at least for the moment. I snuggled closer, absorbing his warmth. I let my eyes close, listened to his breath, his heartbeat. Now and then, he would shift, paying closer attention to the words on the screen, and I’d open my eyes, hoping to glimpse what had caught his interest.

After a while, I sat up straighter, stretching out a kink in my back before resting against him again. Though it wasn’t very late, all the past week’s activity seemed to have caught up with me. I was a bit drowsy, but content to be exactly where I was. The radio played softly, Harvey’s fingertips absently brushing my arm. My eyes raised to find his, and my mouth followed their lead. I was back in his arms; my body pressed against his. He slipped my sweater off of my shoulders, tracing his fingers down my bare arms. I shivered. He folded his arms around me again, kissing me even as he stood. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders.

We were across the room in only a few steps, and he sat us on the edge of his bed. Moments later found myself lying flat on the mattress, pulling him closer. My hands moved up inside his shirt, lightly scratching his back. He lifted, pulling the shirt over his head and letting it fall to the floor. He folded and set his glasses on the nightstand before coming back to me, soft kisses growing steadily more intense. His lips moved to my chest, my stomach. One hand unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them off. My eyes opened and landed on a crack in the ceiling, and I felt like I’d been doused in cold water, thrust suddenly into an inconvenient moment of déjà vu. 

“Harvey,” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I just…” I shook my head. He rolled off of me, but I stayed close, burying my face in his neck. “I need a second.” I wasn’t sure the words made a sound as they left me, but he held me tight. His fingers brushed through my hair, my head and neck tingling under his touch. 

“You can tell me.” He rested an open palm on my cheek, brushing my lips with his thumb. The way he touched me was so much like _before_ , gentle and admiring even as his words pushed me away. I took a deep breath, holding his gaze, thoughts bouncing around inside my head but refusing to leave my mouth. “I think I understand,” he whispered. “I’m–”

“Don’t say sorry,” I said. “Please.” His mouth closed into a smile, but there were shadows in his eyes. “Everything’s okay,” I whispered, for his benefit as much as mine.

I reached for his face, smoothing the edges of his mustache with my thumbs. His lashes fell to his cheeks, his closed eyes surrounded by little shadows. The creases on his forehead seemed deeper, and I thought he’d known more worry than joy. Otherwise, his skin was smooth, a freckle here and there. His dark hair was a mop of waves, untidy due to my playing with it. It made him look youthful, despite the few discernible greys. His eyes fluttered open again, seeming bigger without his glasses. Even in the dim room, their color shone like sunlight through spring leaves. He watched me for a moment as I studied his face, committing him to memory.

“I don’t know what you see when you look at me like that,” he whispered.

“Just you.” 

He watched as I looked at him, and as I did, my hands began to wander down his neck, along his collarbones. My fingertips brushed his chest, soft skin, muscle, and bone beneath. He flinched as I grazed his ribs, smiling at the discovery of a sensitive place. He smiled back, his eyes framed with happy lines. He wrapped tighter around me, pulling me closer, our mouths finding each other again. We came apart, and a sigh escaped me as he dragged his lips across my neck. I wanted him. For all the fear he might still slip beyond my reach, I held him closer, allowing my body to communicate what I couldn’t with words. 

Our heartbeats had slowed, the lights, TV, and radio off. Harvey held me, tucked under the covers, breathing soft and steady on the back of my neck. I was almost asleep when his arm around me tightened. He kissed behind my ear, releasing another breath in the shape of the words _I’m_ _yours_.


	6. see you then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well hi, it's been a while huh? 😅  
> I've been super busy with real life things but also I spent a bunch of time trying to work out the structure of the story I'm trying to tell here. I feel like I have a lot more direction now than I did when I decided to just... keep going. Hopefully the upcoming chapters won't take so long to pull out of my brain, but no promises because I'm easily distracted.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of the (probably many) chapters to come 💕

A heavy arm fell to my lap as I sat up, pulling in an urgent breath as I realized I wasn’t at home. Pale light painted the windows grey. My eyes wandered across the patterned blue wallpaper, landing on a shelf full of hand-painted model planes. I carefully laid back down as my heartbeat slowed, rolling onto my side to face him. I had previously known Harvey to stir at the slightest noise or touch, but his eyes stayed closed as he breathed softly beside me. My fingers brushed his cheek, but he remained peacefully asleep.

“Harvey,” I whispered, expecting his eyes to flutter open. A sleepy smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Harvey, I have to go.” 

“Don’t,” he breathed, snuggling closer and burying his face in my neck. “It’s not morning yet.”

“It is for me,” I laughed. I kissed his forehead before untangling myself from his arms and the blankets. Harvey sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. He wrapped his arms around his pillow as I pulled on my clothes. His breathing deepened, his eyes remained closed. I crept around the room, making sure I’d packed the rest of my things in my bag. I lowered myself to the edge of the bed and gently touched Harvey’s shoulder. 

“Harvey?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going, but I’ll see you on Thursday, okay?” I leaned close to him and kissed his cheek. He smiled again, his eyes blinking open at last. He sat up and wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Peach,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “Have a good day.”

“You too, sleepyhead.” I briefly touched my lips to his before he laid back down. His eyes had closed again, but his smile remained for another moment before sleep pulled him under again. 

The desire to stay until he awoke tugged at my heart, but I knew I had too much to do. And, though I had decided I was too tired to care about the gossipers in town, I didn’t want to risk the possibility of running into anyone on my way home. I thought for a moment before I reached into my bag and pulled out my journal. I flipped it open and scribbled a quick note before carefully tearing out the page. 

_ Harvey, _

_ Hi, sorry I had to get going so early. Hope you’re having a good morning. I wanted to ask you some questions last night, but I sort of forget what I want to say when you look at me sometimes.  _

_ Anyway. Is green your favorite color? Just wondering because you wear it a lot. My next guess would be blue because of your walls. And your sheets. _

_ Are you working toward any short-term goals right now? Long term? Maybe we can talk about some of this stuff on Thursday. _

_ See you then, _

_ Peach _

I didn’t bother to reread what I’d written. I figured I’d be there trying to get the words just right until Harvey’s morning alarm went off. I folded the note in half and bisected it longways, pulling the top corners to the center. I creased each side into two wings and placed the little paper plane on the nightstand next to Harvey’s glasses. Then, I shrugged into my sweater, picked up my bag, and quietly left the apartment. 

The clinic looked just as strange as it had the night before, the hallway lit from overhead by a single fluorescent bulb, a pale shine peeking through the closed blinds that covered the waiting room windows. I checked that the doorknob had locked from the outside before closing it behind me. The air was colder than I expected, the sun not yet visible above the thick trees. The only sound was chirping birds. When I turned toward home, I realized I wasn’t alone in the square. I stared wide-eyed for a moment at Shane before taking a breath and a few steps toward him.

“Hey,” I said, the syllable dragging a bit too long in my attempt to sound casual. “You’re out and about early.”

“Big shipment to unload at Joja this morning,” Shane replied, wearing a smirk instead of a scowl. “I’m guessing your night went well?” My face burned.

“Yeah, um, nice running into you, but I have to–” I gestured in the direction of the farm. “Bye.” 

“Third time’s the charm?” Shane’s laugh shattered the near silence, the warmth of it eroding some of my self-consciousness.

“Fuck off,” I laughed. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and pulled my sweater more tightly around me. “Have a good day at work. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep.” He gave a quick wave and continued toward the eastern bridge. With a sigh, I raised my eyes to the grey-blue sky and walked toward home. 

* * *

I twisted my hair into a bun and swapped my cardigan and shorts for a flannel shirt and jeans. I pulled on some socks and tied my boots while I waited for the coffee pot. I made breakfast, some toast and an egg, eating quickly while shivering at the table. I wanted to light a fire, but it would be too warm for it by midmorning. At least there was coffee. 

I wondered what time Harvey would wake up. The clinic wouldn’t be open for another two hours; he could easily sleep later if he chose. I tried to envision his morning routine, imagining him with sleepy eyes, sipping coffee. Eating a bowl of cereal, a drop of milk on his mustache. Getting dressed in a button-up, slacks, buckling his belt. Tightening his tie, brushing his teeth, his hair, combing his mustache. I wondered if he put on his white coat before or after he went downstairs. I hoped he’d find my note and smile his soft little smile that framed his eyes in happy shadows. 

Much later than I’d intended, I burst through the door into bright sunlight, grabbed my shovel, and headed for the flower garden. Shane and I had planned to install a sprinkler system, and I wanted to get most of the digging done in advance. Assuming we could get it working, we thought we could water the area more effectively without the risk of damaging the blooms. I had initially hoped to finish digging by lunchtime. When I’d made my plans, I hadn’t considered that Harvey would ask me to stay with him. A little pulse of memory shot through me. I didn’t mind the delay.

Later in the afternoon, I started a few new flower beds near the gate and on either side of the porch steps. I couldn’t wait to get some new seeds in the ground. I was ready for my farm to be beautiful again, and I wanted it to last as long as possible before winter buried it all in snow and ice. I reminded myself it was only the first day of fall. Once I’d watered the new beds, I returned to the house, swiping dirt off my jeans. Clouds swirled up from my boots as I kicked them against the steps. I resigned myself to the fact that I was bringing some outside in with me whether I liked it or not.

The bathroom mirror began to fog. I dropped my clothes to the bottom of the hamper and let down my hair. The lengths fell around my shoulders and the warm scent of almonds blended with earth and steam. I emerged from the shower, my hair heavy and wet. I pulled a clean t-shirt and sweatpants from the top dresser drawer, pulling the clean clothes on before I wrapped my hair in my towel. I swept up the dirt I tracked inside and filled Twiggy’s food and water. I scraped together a dinner of scrambled eggs, the last half-serving of a casserole Marnie had sent with Shane one morning, and a big bowl of blueberries.

While I ate, I checked the weather before switching over to the cooking channel. I wondered if I still had those recipes I’d written down before I had a kitchen. The house was tiny; they had to be around somewhere. I’d more often used my kitchen to preserve fruits and vegetables than I did cooking meals. Maybe it was time to learn something new. 

When a chill breeze blew through the screen, I closed and latched the front door and switched off the TV. I left my dishes in the sink before making sure I had a clean coffee cup for the morning. I crawled into bed, rolling onto my side and snuggling into my pillow. Twiggy curled up on top of the blanket behind my knees. I closed my eyes and pictured the last day of summer, warm sand and a soft breeze, sunset on the pier. I envisioned the sand in the dark as ghostly blue lights bubbled up beneath the water’s surface. Being close to Harvey was somehow more than I had hoped it would be, more potent than the aching worry that this would be short-lived. 

* * *

I’d only been up for half an hour when Shane arrived on Tuesday morning. Shane drank a cup of coffee while I finished my oatmeal. We busied ourselves with the sprinkler system until lunch, both of us eating sandwiches on the porch, soaking wet and covered in mud. At least we had finally figured out where we’d gone wrong. Shane and I planned for a short day on Thursday, since I’d be leaving for the clinic not long after lunch. After drying in the sun a while, we were back in the fields, planting as much as we could before Shane needed to head home for dinner. He washed up at the farm as much as he could and waved goodbye on his way to the wooded path that connected the ranch and the farm. 

When I decided I’d finished planting, I dusted myself off and stooped to lift the seed bag, careful not to spill it. I tied the opening and placed it in the trunk, my gloves falling next to it with a little thump and a puff of dust. Before I went inside, I checked the mailbox, pausing when I removed a small envelope. My name and address were written neatly in small print; each letter tilted slightly to the left. I brought the note inside and slid my finger along the seam. Inside was an appointment reminder from the clinic, though I was sure Harvey had sent me one already. Then I noticed the second piece of paper that he had tucked underneath the reminder card. I unfolded it, smiling before I’d even seen what it said. 

_ Peach, _

_ Thank you for your note. _

_ I’m torn between hoping Thursday arrives quickly and wanting more time to come up with good answers to your questions. (I can’t help leaning more toward the former.)  _

_ When you have some time to relax, get your radio, and sit on the porch. Tilt the antenna at a 45-degree angle northwest and turn the dial to FM 88.5. I have a feeling you’ll like this station, but please tell me if I’m wrong. I have a few others you can try. _

_ See you soon. _

_ -H _

_ By the way, I think green is my favorite, but now that you’ve mentioned it, my apartment is very blue, isn’t it? _

I reread the words twice more, the smile on my face refusing to fade. After a shower, I pulled on an oversized hoodie and wandered to the kitchen. I opened a bottle of wine, poured myself a jar, and brought it outside with my radio. I sat on the steps and followed the instructions in Harvey’s note. All I heard was static. I stood up in frustration and almost dropped the radio when music came through instead. Setting the radio carefully on the railing, I sat back on the step as a lo-fi recording of an acoustic guitar and a resonant voice poured out of the speaker. I sipped my wine and watched the sky fade from blue to black, wondering when I had last felt this happy.

* * *

With the sale crops finally planted, I spent the rest of Wednesday working on my small vegetable garden, dividing it into sections with string before I hauled over a fertilizer bag and my remaining seeds. I worked in the soil, tucking seeds into the ground and labeling each section with a sign. My mind wandered to last year when I’d had half the working land, no animals, and only half an idea of what I was doing. I wasn’t entirely sure how, but I’d gotten by. Since my arrival at Willowbrook, I’d existed in a perpetual state of change, but somewhere along the way, I’d shed the sense that everything was rushing past me as I struggled to keep up. Maybe I’d been changing too.

The gate creaked and pulled me from my thoughts. I sat back on my heels, dragging my sleeve across my forehead as Alex approached with a wave and a wide smile.

“Hey, farm girl.”

“What do you want?” I called back.

“Well,” he started as he drew closer, crossing his arms and looking down at me. “I was supposed to get Granny some eggs yesterday, but I forgot. And Pierre’s is closed. So I thought, maybe I could buy some from you.”

“Would’ve been a shorter walk to JojaMart.”

“Yeah, that’s where she sent me. But yours are,” Alex hesitated, “better.” 

“How many do you need?” I tried to swallow a smile as he rolled his eyes, fighting the sincerity that threatened to crack through his arrogant expression. 

“A dozen if you have ’em,” he shrugged. 

“I think I can manage that,” I said, standing and clapping dirt off my gloves before I dropped them in next to the bags of seeds on the ground. “Wait here.”

I went into the house and grabbed a basket, laying a clean cloth along the bottom. I peeked through the kitchen window. Alex stood at the bottom of the porch steps, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, looking out over the fields. I wondered if I ought to charge him extra for causing me so much trouble over the past few weeks. But his grandparents, George and Evelyn, had been close to Grandpa and were some of the only people left in town who knew him. I was sure I’d made a less-than-wonderful impression on them since my arrival. This was as good a chance as any to try to make up for it. Two at a time, I pulled a dozen eggs from the refrigerator and placed them in the basket, pulling bits of fabric in between to keep them from knocking into each other. After a moment of thought, I pulled a small jar of fairy rose honey off the shelf, tucking it into the basket with the hope that Evelyn might enjoy it.

“I’m gonna need the basket back,” I said as I descended the steps and placed the handle in Alex’s hand. 

“Sure,” he said. “How much?”

“Fifteen?”

“Okay. Cool.” His smile seemed unusually hesitant.

“Try to get everything home in one piece.”

“Hey, I’m just as agile as I am strong.”

“Of course, how could I not realize?” I rolled my eyes, kneeling in front of the garden and pulling on my gloves. Alex laughed.

“Um, thanks.”

“No problem,” I said, leaning across the turned earth to tuck another handful of seeds into the loose soil. “Are you gonna just stand there?” 

“Oh, right.” Alex still grinned. For someone whose swaggering smile never seemed to leave his lips, none I’d seen from him before had ever seemed so genuine. “Bye.”

I smiled, shaking my head as I turned back to the vegetable garden. The sun was low but warm on my back as I finished the day’s work. I stayed out until sunset, then cleaned myself up and changed into comfortable clothes, spending the evening as I had the night before. I sat on the porch with the radio on, a jar of wine beside me. I balanced my journal on my knees, tapping the tip of my pen on the blank page. My thoughts had been so consumed with seeing Harvey again that I hadn’t put much thought into what Dr. Warren and I would discuss in our session the next day. 

As happy as I had been feeling, I had no idea how to tell my therapist I was trying out a relationship with the person I’d spent months last year trying to get over. The fact that I’d never told her this person was also the one who referred me to her in the first place made me even more nervous. Realistically I knew Dr. Warren wasn’t there to judge my choices, but I couldn’t imagine her reaction to this situation would be positive. She had to have noticed that I referred to everyone else by name. I’d talked to her about Elliott, Shane, Emily, even Leah, but I never had once mentioned Harvey’s name. Before, I had been worried I might somehow get him into trouble, which wouldn’t have been fair. After all, I had set that whole chain of events into motion. Even now, I wasn’t sure of the professional consequences Harvey might face because of me. 

I let my worries spill onto the page, tapping my heels on the step below, willing my nervous energy to subside. I took a big gulp of wine, catching a drip with the pad of my thumb and putting it in my mouth, tasting an odd combination of fruit and salt. When I’d closed the notebook, I drummed my fingers against the wooden stair, deeply breathing in the purple evening. A cool breeze blew past, raising goosebumps on my bare legs, autumn’s reminder that winter was on its heels. I reached for the bottle to refill my jar and found it empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> about those eggs: Currency is confusing so I’ve mostly tried to avoid writing about it in specific terms, but this is how I imagine it to work for the purposes of this story.  
> It would be really inconvenient to pay for things with only coins so I imagined each ‘gold’ coin to be worth like .01 (like an american penny or something lol). I did some math, and in game, the full price for a dozen gold quality eggs would have been 1,704g so I’m just making it 17.04. Peach knocked a little off the price to make it 1,500g or 15.00.  
> Do these details really matter? Probably not. Do I get stuck thinking about them instead of writing things that matter more to the story? Definitely yes.


	7. when it rains

A steady rain battered the roof, wrapping the house in a soft buzz. The sky through the window was no lighter than night, but for the occasional flash of lightning. Shane wouldn’t come today, but that was for the better. There was never much for him to do on rainy days. He used to turn up anyway and keep me company. He learned fast how boring the farm could be when you couldn’t go outside. For the past few months, Shane had been spending every morning he could with Jas. He’d make her breakfast and walk with her to school or to Vincent’s house. I hoped he’d take the opportunity today. I’d rather him not know I forgot to check the weather and drowned a season’s worth of groceries. 

The rainfall was nowhere near as heavy as it had been the night before. Still, it poured over the slope of the roof and into the muddy puddle that should have been my garden. I sighed, wondering if there was a way to fix this. I wasn’t sure it would be possible without losing the four days this storm system would hover over the valley.

With a pot of coffee started, I got ready to take care of the chickens. The dirt path to the coop had dissolved into deep, slick mud. I was a mess before I’d made it five feet from the porch, and my hooded sweatshirt did nothing to keep me dry. The ducks and hens slept longer on stormy mornings, huddled together in a fluffy little pile. I couldn’t bring myself to bother them for their eggs. I made sure they had plenty to eat and left the coop empty handed. 

The rain spattered my face, blurring my vision as soon as I stepped out of the coop. I navigated the path with care, dodging the deepest puddles. My feet slid as I approached the porch. I caught the rail before I fell, but I still managed to cover myself in mud. There was no way I wouldn’t be mopping the floors today. I sat on the step and pulled off my work boots. They were coated in the clay-like mud. I rinsed them as well as I could under the stream of rain dumping over the edge of the roof. I noted that I needed to clean out the rusty old gutters. 

I turned to climb the stairs, now noticing the silhouette of someone hurrying through the rain. I scrambled to my feet, pulling my hood down and unsticking strands of wet hair from my cheeks. Under the shelter of the porch, Harvey lowered his umbrella. He closed it and leaned it against the railing. The thing hadn’t seemed to do him much good; he was soaked from collar to hem.

“It’s really coming down,” he grinned. He shuffled in the wet footprints he left on the weathered wood. “It wasn’t so windy when I left home.”

“What brings you out this way?” 

“The storm, actually.” He cleared his throat and adopted a more serious expression. “The phones went out overnight. I don’t know when they’ll be fixed. Your appointment...” He looked me up and down, my mud-splattered clothes, my socks soaking up the rain that dipped from the rest of me. He smiled again, shaking his head. “I thought I might save you a trip to town in this weather. I don’t know what possessed me to think you wouldn’t already be out in it.”

I shrugged. Harvey’s laugh was full and warm as he wrapped me in a wet hug. He was dripping from the ends of his wavy hair, and his glasses were flecked with tiny droplets. He planted a watery kiss on my cheek. 

“Good morning, Peach.”

“Morning,” I giggled, drying the edges of his mustache with the cuff of my sleeve. “Come inside, it’s miserable out here.”

I helped peel Harvey out of his jacket and hung it near the fireplace. I beckoned him further in. 

“Sit and warm up. I’ll only be a second.”

I scampered to my room to change. I pulled on a t-shirt and the first pair of shorts I found and threw my wet clothes in the tub. I grabbed a clean hand towel on my way, handing it to Harvey upon my return to the kitchen. He removed his glasses to dry them. His shirt was drenched despite the jacket he’d worn. His skin peeked through where the fabric clung to his shoulders.

“Thanks,” he smiled, replacing his glasses. “Now I can actually see you.”

“You’re welcome.” I opened the cabinet above the sink and pulled down another mug. “Coffee?”

“I can’t stay long,” he said, even as he moved his chair a bit closer to the fire. 

“Harvey, you’re soaked through.” I placed a mug in front of him. “Going right back out in that sounds like a good way to catch a cold.”

“Viruses cause colds, Peach, not nasty weather,” he chuckled. “Maru’s scheduled today. She doesn’t have a key. And she’s never late.”

I bit back the first response that popped into my head, but half a laugh escaped.

“What?” Harvey asked, setting down his cup.

“Nothing.” I smiled and shook my head. I reached over his shoulder to take the towel from him. He tightened his grip.

“Tell me?” He pulled on the towel, bringing me closer. 

His cheeks flushed despite the glint of mischief in his eyes. I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He dropped the towel and took my hand, his fingers brushing gently over mine. He turned in his chair, smiling against my lips and drawing me closer. 

“Tell me,” he said. 

“Those clothes will dry faster without you in them.”

He laughed again, loud, his shoulders shaking. The echo of it rumbled in my chest. I pulled him back to me. 

“I do have— a clinic to open,” Harvey managed between kisses.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I laughed. I picked up the towel and draped it over the edge of the sink to dry. I leaned against the counter and faced him. “It’s still early.”

Harvey crossed his arms, one eyebrow raised, and stole a glance at his watch.

* * *

Some sunlight managed to brighten the sky behind the clouds. The wind had calmed. Our footsteps were barely audible over the endless patter of the rain. Harvey’s umbrella swung from the crook of my arm while we walked together under mine. 

“I’m not sure we’ll make it in time,” Harvey fretted.

“I promised to get you there, didn’t I?”

“Yes, before you dug through everything you own to find your rain boots.” 

“Everything I own fits in two drawers and a tiny closet. And if I recall, you were still getting dressed.” 

“That’s— I could blame you for that too,” Harvey muttered, color rising to his cheeks.

“No fair,” I said, stepping to the side to get a better look at him. “There’s no way you walked all this way in a rainstorm— _before dawn_ in a rainstorm— _just_ to tell me about some broken phones.”

“Well,” he began, scratching the back of his head. A smile bloomed across his face.

“Well?” I giggled. “Admit it. You just wanted to see me.” 

“Your hair’s getting wet.” 

“It was barely dry when we left. And don’t change the subject, y—”

In one gentle motion, Harvey caught my arm and whirled me around to face him. The rain had made his wavy hair a bit more wild. His grin dug those tiny little lines around his eyes. My heart pounded as his fingers brushed my cheek, and his eyes bore into mine.

“I wanted to see you,” he said. The look in his eyes pushed the air out of me. His sincerity liquefied my nerve, and I had the urge to hide from him again.

“Okay,” I breathed when I’d found my voice. “Good. Come on. We’re in a hurry, remember?” I took his hand and pulled him after me to the cobblestone path ahead.

Pelican Town seemed to still be asleep. The streetlights cast a dim glow in the hazy air. Harvey didn’t drop my hand until we reached the clinic door.

“I told you we’d make it. And with minutes to spare.”

Harvey chuckled and handed me the umbrella while he retrieved his keys and unlocked the door.

“Are you coming in? Or are you going to wait in the rain?”

I followed Harvey inside, leaning the folded umbrella against the wall. I helped him with his coat, which hadn’t had enough time to fully dry, even before we went back in the rain. Harvey dug out a wet floor sign wedged between a chair and the wall and set it up near the door. He went through the swinging door at the other end of the waiting room. The lights flickered on overhead, and the television on the wall came to life. He returned a few minutes later, having put on his white coat and combed his hair. He gestured for me to sit and took the chair beside me.

“So what brings you to town today?” 

“I’m not sure if you noticed the giant mud puddle outside my house this morning, but it was meant to be a garden. So I need some more seeds. And to refill my prescription.” 

“I can get that for you now,” Harvey said, preparing to stand. 

“No, that’s okay,” I blurted, reaching for his hand. “I’ll come back during business hours.” 

He smiled and settled back in his chair, his knee resting against mine. 

“This isn’t what I imagined doing today,” he said. 

“No? What did you have planned?”

“Oh, just a normal morning. A shower, coffee, phones that weren’t broken,” Harvey chuckled. “I was going to take inventory of the pharmacy, get a head start on the paperwork for tomorrow’s appointments. I’d have tried to finish in time to see you before your appointment. Then, after you’d finished, I thought we might have taken a walk. There are a few trails through the mountains that are beautiful this time of year.” 

“Did you forget to check the weather too?”

“No, I checked it. And since I found out about this storm, I’ve been trying to think of something else for us to do. It hasn’t gone well. I thought I’d figure it out by this afternoon. But then the phones were out. And—”

“You came to tell me.”

“Yes.” He half smiled and nudged me with his elbow. 

“When do you think they’ll be fixed?”

“Hard to say. The last time something like this happened, it was about a week. I’m sure this weather sticking around for a few days won’t help matters. But don’t worry about a thing. I’ll reschedule your appointment. And— I’ll let you know as soon as the phones are back in service. In case.”

“Thank you.” I squeezed his hand. He let out a contented sigh and brushed his thumb over mine.

“Peach.” 

“Harvey.”

“I thought maybe— Do you want to have dinner?”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah. Tonight.” As confident as Harvey could be at work, or even when he was teasing me, he now seemed as timid as the day we met. 

“I can do dinner,” I grinned. “Come over after work?”

“Should I—”

The door burst open, and Harvey dropped my hand as he rose to his feet. My eyes snapped to the clock on the wall. I was surprised to find it was well past nine. 

“I’m _so_ sorry.” Maru blew past us through the swinging door, reappearing behind the counter. Her bag hit the floor with a thud as she tore off her rain jacket. “We didn’t have power this morning, and the backup generator failed. Dad and Sebastian made me fix it before they’d even let me— What are _you_ doing here?” 

“The phones are down,” Harvey said, raising his eyebrows at her tone.

“I know. I tried to call.” She hung her dripping jacket on the back of her chair.

“Yes, well, I went to let Peach know we’d likely have to reschedule her appointment. It slipped my mind that she’d need to come in anyway to— to refill her prescription.”

“Uh huh,” she huffed.

“I’m gonna—” I pulled my bag over my shoulder and stood. “I can come back later.” 

“No need. I’ll get it now.” Maru shot me a glare before she disappeared to the interior of the clinic.

“That was— odd.” Harvey frowned. 

“Yeah, um, sounds like she’s having a rough morning.” I couldn’t quite meet his eye. 

“She must be.”

I was uneasy. I wanted to be honest. How could I, when it would mean dredging up a past we’d agreed to leave behind? I couldn’t unmake my mistakes, but I could at least delay reliving them. I forced an unruffled smile. 

“See you later?” My fingers reached for his, only to abandon the attempt when Maru pushed back through the door. 

Harvey gave a short nod and set about straightening one of the rows of chairs. I approached the counter and dug out my wallet.

“Did you want to go ahead and prepay the cancellation fee for today’s appointment?” Maru had adopted a more cheerful tone. 

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Harvey said before I could open my mouth. “Peach can’t help that the phones aren’t working. Dr. Warren will understand.”

“Alright then.” She held out her hand to accept my payment and thrust a small paper bag into my hands. “Thank you. Have a nice day,” she added flatly.

“Um, thanks. You too.” I stuffed my meds and my wallet back into my bag. I glanced at Harvey, daring one last smile before I returned to the rain. 

* * *

Pierre called out a welcome as I entered the warmth of the general store, the old wooden floorboards creaking beneath my feet. I returned a smile and a wave and turned down the nearest aisle of shelves. I closed my eyes and inhaled a slow breath. My interaction with Maru had rattled me more than I’d realized. Her reaction to my presence alone was enough to raise questions I wasn’t sure I could answer. Answers would lead to more questions, a labyrinth of doors better kept closed. I could only hope that she thought the same. Another deep breath and I pulled my thoughts away. There were other, more immediate problems to solve. I wasn’t sure if Harvey had meant for us to stay in, but he’d given me an idea, and I’d planned to run with it. 

I pulled out my notebook and flipped through the pages. I skimmed over scribbled thoughts, doodles, and lists until I found the recipes I’d copied. I needed something easy, but not too easy. I didn’t want Harvey to think I didn’t want to put in an effort. I dog-eared a few pages and worked my way through the store. I gathered everything I thought I would need, praying I already had the rest at home. I stacked my selections on the counter before browsing the seed packets on a nearby shelf.

“You’re out and about early today. Expanding the garden?” Pierre eyed the packets of seeds in my hands. “How _is_ that farm of yours?” 

“It’s more like a swamp today,” I said. “I’m not sure if the crops are gonna love or hate all this rain.”

“Did you plant the fairy roses? They’ll drink it all in. Though, after all this, they might not come up exactly where you planted them,” he chuckled.

“That’s good to know,” I smiled. “I’m worried the rest might be done for.” I dropped the seed packets on the counter.

“Maybe not. You know, I checked out a gardening book not too long ago— I overwatered Caroline’s spangles. She was furious, but we were able to save them. Why don’t I grab it for you? It might help. And— you don’t mind returning it to the library for me, do you?” He grinned.

“No, I don’t mind at all. Thanks, Pierre.” I returned his smile. “Oh, any chance you have some empty egg cartons? The paper ones?”

“Hmm, I’d have to check. Sure you don’t mind waiting?” 

Pierre ducked through the door in the corner of the room. He returned shortly with two egg cartons and the book. He cheerily added a few cents to my total and packed up my groceries and seeds. I paid, took my bags, and set off for home. 

A dense grey mist swallowed the yellowing tops of the trees. The rain fell lightly, but another wall of black storm clouds loomed in the northwest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes hello I'm back and I've returned with confidence that all of this is going somewhere.  
> Also there's one more fluffy lil chapter on the way before we get into it.  
> Remember when I said this was gonna be all lighthearted and fun? My 30-page outline said no. Sorry 😅


	8. basic knife safety

The farmhouse usually seemed warmer and brighter on dreary afternoons. Rain provided a relaxing ambiance, accompanied by the crackling fire. The bottom rack of the oven held a pan of root vegetables roasting at low heat. A pot of blueberries simmered on the stove, filling the kitchen with a pleasant sweetness. I’d started working on dinner almost as soon as I walked in the door. Throwing myself into the preparations hadn’t alleviated the gnawing sensation in my stomach.

While I was half glad I had more time to think about telling Dr. Warren about Harvey, I was so tired of thinking about it. And now I needed to figure out what to do about Maru, too. I didn’t know what I would say if Harvey asked about it. I had no idea what Maru would say if he asked her. And this rain and the ground outside full of seedlings I wasn’t sure would survive it. I stirred and covered the berries, pulling in a deep breath. I held it a few seconds before I released, trying to push the thoughts away for now.

I’d much rather have thought about the better parts of the day and the good that was still coming. I took a moment to scribble my worries on a page and tore it from my journal. When I finished, I folded it in fours and tossed it into the fire. I returned to my journal, triple-checking every recipe. I wanted to get everything exactly right. 

The beets, yams, and parsnips would stay in the oven until it was time to plate them. That left the main dish, the salad, and dessert. I’d picked the healthiest sounding thing I could find, a yogurt parfait. I figured I could make granola with the oats I had no other use for. I had plenty of honey, and I’d set aside a few blueberries to top it. I stirred a bowl of dry oats, sliced almonds, and honey. As it baked it added a nuttiness to the earthy sweetness of the roasting vegetables and simmering berries. I checked the time and stirred the pot once more.

Time raced by while I prepared the main dish. I chopped garlic, onions, and peppers, along with the stems of a dozen mushrooms. I sautéed the mixture before stuffing the mushroom caps and placing them on the center oven rack. I would have preferred to use more food I’d grown myself. Half the ingredients hadn’t been in season, so I’d have ended up paying for them anyway. Once I had the barn, I needed to see about repairing that old greenhouse. I doubted whether any of it would be salvageable. And there might not be a barn until next summer. I was startled back to reality by a knock at the door. My eyes flew to the clock on the stove; I didn’t believe it could be past four.

I tore open the door, hiding as much of myself behind it as I could. I’d been so preoccupied with the food I hadn’t remembered to get myself ready. Harvey looked as put-together as ever, a clean shirt with a checked pattern peeking out of his jacket. 

“Come in,” I said, happy to see him despite the state of myself. “But just— pretend you haven’t seen me yet, okay?” I closed the door behind him and dashed to my room. For once, I wanted him to see me _try_. At least I wasn’t covered in mud.

“Am I too early?” Harvey called from the other side of the wall. 

“No!” I tore off my ratty old sweatshirt and put on a bra, my fingers fumbling with the clasp. 

“Do you want me to go and come back?”

“Nope!” I scrambled into a pair of jeans and clean socks and dug through a drawer of hand me down blouses from Emily. Everything was wrinkled. I cursed myself for not thinking to lay something out earlier. And for not owning an iron. I sighed, shoved the shirts back in the drawer, and pulled on my pine green sweater. It would have to do.

I climbed onto the dresser, leaning close to the mirror on the wall above it. I swiped on some mascara, licking my finger and rubbing at the smudges. I threw on a rose-tinted lip balm, touching my lips together and trying not to smear. 

I expected my hair to be more of a problem. I uncoiled the knot at the top of my head and gently brushed through the lengths before parting it. It had somehow dried into messy waves that fell around my shoulders. It wasn’t my best hair day, but I’d had worse. 

The timer on the oven began to sound as I returned to the kitchen. I rushed to turn it off and grab an oven mitt. I pulled out the granola, leaving it to cool on the stove. I checked my notebook and reset the timer for the vegetables and stuffed mushrooms.

Finally, I turned to Harvey, wrapping my arms around his waist and standing on my toes to kiss his cheek. His fingers laced together behind my back. He found my eyes and smiled, sending a flutter through me. 

“Hi. You look nice,” I said.

His cheeks went pink, and he hugged me tight, mumbling a response into my hair. My heart swooped again at the word lovely.

“Nothing’s ready yet.”

“What can I do to help?” he asked with a grin.

“Um, let’s see. Everything’s in the oven, so it’s only the salad.” 

I opened the fridge and piled the ingredients on the counter: olive oil, a few lemons, garlic. I pulled down a jar of honey and my salt and pepper shakers from the cabinet. Harvey looked over my shoulder as I flipped to one of the dog-eared pages in my notebook. I was suddenly self-conscious. I had scrawled the ingredients months ago on a page filled with silly thoughts and doodles. I closed the book over my finger.

“Do you know how to make a vinaigrette? I have the ingredients, but I forgot to write the amounts.”

“We can figure it out,” Harvey said, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands. He measured a quarter cup of olive oil into an empty jar. “Equal parts of the oil and acid, I think.”

I halved one of the lemons. His hands squeezed the rinds into themselves; the measuring cup filled with the tart juice. Notes of citrus joined the chorus of cooking smells that filled the kitchen. 

“Spoon?” 

“That drawer, to your right.” I peeled a few cloves of garlic while Harvey measured a spoonful of honey into the jar. I felt him staring at me. “What?”

“Nothing.”

I raised my eyebrows, half a smile on my face. Harvey’s cheeks reddened with the memory of this morning. He cleared his throat.

“They’re easier to cut if you flatten them first,” he said.

I hated to admit I hadn’t had the easiest time chopping the garlic for the stuffed mushrooms. The peeled cloves were slippery, and I’d already lost a few to the floor. My fingers brushed over the scar on my left palm. As eager as I was to look like I knew what I was doing, it was probably better to learn by watching first.

“Show me?” I left the knife on the cutting board and stepped aside.

Harvey pressed the flat of the knife down with the edge of his palm, crushing the clove beneath it. The blade lifted to reveal the clove had separated into rough segments. He handed me the knife, the handle pointed toward me. I took it carefully in my right hand and held the garlic steady with my left.

“Please watch your fingers,” Harvey said, wincing. 

“You giving me stitches is not on the agenda for this evening.”

“Stitches are easy. It’s been a while since I’ve had to reattach an appendage.” He curled the fingers of his hands to flatten his second knuckles. “Bear claw.”

“Impressed as I am that you know _how_ to reattach an appendage, I won’t remove one just to watch you do it.” I mirrored how he held his hand and turned back to the cutting board.

Harvey chuckled and seemed to relax a bit. I continued chopping, slowly rocking the edge of the blade through the segments. When I finished, Harvey added the garlic along with salt and pepper to the jar. He twisted the lid closed and shook the jar to combine the ingredients. I tried to scrub the smell of garlic off my hands while he placed the dressing in the refrigerator to chill. 

Harvey worked on the kale while I diced a pair of apples and opened a packet of dried cranberries. I stored the granola in an empty coffee can and moved the blueberries to the fridge. Harvey combined the salad ingredients while I switched off the oven timer. 

Harvey unzipped a small bag he’d left by the door and brought out a bottle of wine. Crossing to the cabinet next to the sink, he pulled out two jars. In the drawer, he found a pair of forks, knives, and a corkscrew. Moments later, the wine sat open and breathing on the table while Harvey laid out the silverware. 

He approached behind me while I put together our plates, resting a hesitant hand on my hip. 

“I wasn’t expecting this. But it’s— thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. It might not even be good.” I looked up at him. “I know we didn’t have a chance to settle on a plan. I just sort of decided to do this and— I hope it’s okay.”

“Of course, it’s okay.” He took the finished plates from the counter and set them on the table. “I stopped by the saloon earlier, and the special was carp surprise.” 

We ate and drank, filling each other in on the hours we’d spent apart. The conversation wandered to the previous days and our plans for the next few. When we finished, Harvey refilled our glasses and took our plates to the sink. He’d pushed up his sleeves again as clouds of steam rose in front of him. I got up to help dry, staying at his side despite his insistence that I relax for a few minutes. 

The porch was often a good place to spend time even in wet weather, but the wind had picked up again. It whistled in the chimney and pelted the walls with sheets of rain. I brought Harvey to my room, sitting him on the bed and pushing my radio into his hands. After a minute of fiddling, he managed to pick up an oldies station. The music reminded me of childhood trips, sitting in the back seat, too short to see anything through the window but sky. He set the radio beside him and took another careful sip of wine before I took his glass. I put it with mine on the dresser before handing him a pen and my notebook. 

“Stations, please.” 

I sat next to him, watching him flip to an empty page. He listed a few stations the radio should pick up, with a short description next to each. His writing was loose from the uneven surface but still neat. I hadn’t noticed before that he was left-handed. When he’d finished, he set the book in my hands.

The station I’d been listening to on the porch was first on the list. Next to the number, I added five scribbly little stars. A smile spread across Harvey’s face. I capped the pen and closed it in the notebook, leaning to set it on the night table. 

“Thank you for your help with everything tonight. And for knowing that you’re supposed to massage kale.”

“I don’t know why you’re thanking me,” he said. “But you’re welcome. For the radio stations at least.”

“I can admit that my plans were a little overambitious.”

“You seemed like you had it under control. Ninety percent of cooking is following instructions.”

“I don’t do this very often. Or ever, really,” I admitted. “Not having to wash the dishes might convince me to try again, though.”

Harvey chuckled. He shifted a bit on the mattress, causing the radio to tip over. The music dissolved into static. He stared at the radio a moment before he turned to me, a look of disbelief on his face.

“What? I told you that radio hates to be a radio.” I laughed. “Sometimes I think it’s this house— you didn’t believe me.”

“Well, I didn’t think you don’t know how to use a radio.” Harvey carefully adjusted the antenna. The radio played once again, sitting solidly on the dresser.

“Well, what _did_ you think?” I crossed my arms and looked him straight in the eye.

“I thought— not that I _thought_ , but I suspected you might be— pretending.”

“You caught me,” I laughed. “This was all a scheme to lure you to my room.”

His arms wrapped around me, his lips sweeping my cheek. He gazed into my eyes, and my laughter fell quiet. His mouth drifted aimlessly over mine. When he pulled away, his fingertips brushed my cheek and over my lips. When had we laid down? 

“What’s this?” Harvey’s touch lingered below my lower lip. My tongue moved to feel the spot from the inside, a little bump. 

“Oh,” I laughed. “I got my lip pierced when I turned eighteen. I only had it a week before my mom made me take it out.” I reached to brush a wave of dark hair from his brow. “How about you?”

“I’ve never had a piercing,” he laughed.

“You know what I mean. Everybody has a scar story, don’t they? And you know two of mine.”

Harvey shifted and pushed his unbuttoned sleeve up past his elbow. On either side of the joint was a round scar, one a bit smaller than the other. 

“I broke my humerus when I was eight.” He rubbed at his upper arm. “I had minor surgery to set the bone.”

“What happened?”

“I fell off the roof.” His sheepish grin pulled another giggle out of me. 

“What were you doing on the roof?”

“For a while, my dad had a house near the airport. My bedroom window had the best view of the runway. That window also happened to overlook the roof of the garage. I wasn’t supposed to be out there, as you can imagine, but it was the perfect place to watch the planes take off. I was out there one afternoon when my dad knocked on my door. I didn’t want to get caught so I tried to hide out of the view of the window. I slipped and fell.”

“Is that why you don’t like heights?”

“No, I only fell about eight feet,” he chuckled. “The problem was the landing.” He rolled over to face the ceiling. “Dad heard me fall. Not that I knew that— I tried to convince him I fell off my bike. Nevermind the fact that my bike was at my mother’s house. 

"The trip to the emergency room, the surgery, that was all fine. But my dad was scared. I think the doctor spent more time calming him down than she did me. That was the scary part of it I think. As kids, we think adults are fearless.

"In the end, Dad bought me a bike I couldn't ride, and we told my mom I fell off of it. And that was the last time I climbed on a roof.”

“That’s a shame,” I said, smiling when he looked at me sideways. “I love a good roof.”

“Of course, you do.” His thumb brushed the tiny scar below my lip. “Something tells me you don’t shy away from dangerous things.”

“I don’t know if I’d say _that_. But I guess— I never really enjoyed following the rules.” I laughed as he raised an eyebrow, seeming to debate whether he should ask. “I think I’ll save those stories for another time.”

Harvey opened his mouth only to close it again. I threw a leg over him, leaning close and brushing my lips over his. Harvey wrapped an arm around my waist, using the other to push us upright. His eyes crinkled in a smile. His lips parted, and I fell into their warmth. 

A flash of lightning brightened the growing darkness. The windows shook with the thunder that followed. Harvey rested his forehead on mine, his breath warm on my tingling lips. 

“Stay here tonight,” I breathed.

“Are you ignoring the fact that I brought a bag?”

“I didn’t want to assume it meant anything.” 

Harvey leaned forward, his body solid against mine, his breath whispering below my ear.

“It means I’ll stay.”


End file.
